More Than A Pretty Face
by lilyevansJan30
Summary: Fleur Delacour is much more than her portrayal in canon. From the snotty, self-centered child in GoF to a strong fighter, loyal Order member, and Bill Weasley's love in DH, she grew a lot. This story explores that growth and how Bill came to love her. Follows canon with many details of my own. This is a repost - more coming soon!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

The more I wrote about Fleur when I was working on Firsts, the more I liked her. She changed so much from GoF to DH, and I wanted to explore why and how, so here we are. Let me apologize now for this first Chapter/Prologue because it is almost entirely exposition and not terribly exciting, but I had a lot to say and not

By the age of three, Fleur Delacour knew she was exceptionally beautiful. At five, she understood that people treated her differently for it. She thought it absurd to be judged for something so out of her control, but she was not so stupid as to say so; beautiful people who downplayed the luck of their looks generally came off as braggarts. And Fleur was savvy enough to know how to use her appearance to her advantage.

Most Veela preferred using the natural charms and talents wrought by their blood over the cultivation of their magical abilities, and Fleur was the only Veela at Beauxbatons Academy. It did not bother her to have her skills underestimated; her magic attracted less attention that way, and there were precious few other times when Fleur was not subject to attention. No one underestimated her for long.

Fleur knew that the combination of her Veela's looks and magical talent was likely to prevent her from ever finding a permanent mate. Most boys and men she encountered were either too stunned by her appearance to speak in coherent sentences or else assumed there was nothing about her worth getting to know beyond her face and body. Fleur held no objections to making time for the latter, and her years as a student as Beauxbatons were marked by short flings with particularly attractive fellow students (and in one memorable case, a young professor), and several brief periods of serial monogamy. None of her dalliances _meant_ anything to her, but were enjoyed purely for the physical pleasure they brought. She was careful never to lead anyone on, and so the broken hearts of those left in her wake did not concern her.

The first time Fleur questioned whether her magic was good enough was when she traveled to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry for the Tri-Wizard Tournament in the autumn of her seventh year. There had been no doubt in her mind that she would be chosen as her school's champion. The Goblet would recognize her talent even where others didn't, and her looks would intimidate the competition to carry her the rest of the way to victory.

Even the addition of that _child_ , that second Hogwarts champion, Harry Potter, did not dim her confidence. Of course it was unfair, and Fleur did not hold back in making her displeasure known, but there was no way that a student with only four years of magical education could ever be considered a threat. Why, the Potter boy was so young that he didn't even seem affected by her Veela charms the way most of the other Hogwarts males seemed to be. And there were a few Fleur had her eye on.

But then the first task arrived, and Fleur's carefully constructed façade and sense of invincibility began to erode.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

 _Dragons. DRAGONS! How could they be expected to fight Dragons?_

Fleur had been careful to show no reaction when Madame Maxine revealed to her what her first task would be, had nodded attentively without hearing a word as Madame whispered suggestions as they walked across the grounds. Now she was pacing silently in her sleeping room in the carriage, not wanting to admit that maybe, just maybe, she had gotten into something over her head.

"Fleur, avez-vous le diner?" Alexandre Dubois, the classmate Fleur had considered her biggest competition to becoming a Champion, was standing in the doorway. He spoke more formally than normal, and Fleur knew he was still smarting from being bested by her.

"Non, I am not 'ungry for dinner," she replied, with more petulance than the question deserved. "And speak in 'ze Eenglish. We are supposed to be practicing." She resumed her pacing.

Alexandre nodded and made to leave, but then he stopped and turned back. "I can bring you something to . . to . . ahh, comment dites-vous 'manger?'"

"To eat," said Fleur stiffly.

"Oui, to eat," agreed Alexandre. "I can bring you something to eat later. And then, maybe we can . . ." he waggled his eyes at her and gestured casually below his waist.

 _Did he really think I would want to . . . now? Is that all he really thinks I am good for, even after the Goblet proved I'm the better wizard?_

Unbidden, a scene from earlier that day flew into her head, of the two Hogwarts champions talking quietly to each other in the courtyard. Fleur knew that most Hogwarts students were almost as angry about that Potter boy as Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were. And yet, there had been something almost collegial about the way Cedric leaned in to listen to what Harry was saying. Their interaction was over in seconds, but Fleur had been left with the feeling that Harry had been giving something – something of value – to Cedric.

 _They are competitors, and yet . . . and Alexandre, he could offer to help me, but instead he only thinks I am good for one thing. Infuriating._

"I have to battle a dragon tomorrow. With nothing more 'zan my wand," she spat out, gratified to see Alexandre's eyes dilate with surprise and fear. "And so 'zis'," she said, fluttering her own hand, "is 'ze last 'zing on my mind." She turned away, assuming he had gotten the message.

But Alexandre wasn't done. "Maybe after," he said softly as he left. "Assuming you live."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH

Although she didn't see it, getting tended to in the medical tent as she was, all Fleur heard after the First Task was about how amazingly Harry Potter had flown, and that maybe he could be considered a serious competitor after all. Truth be told, Fleur didn't really care. She came out of the First Task with a renewed sense of purpose and confidence. Harry Potter may have gotten lucky with the First Task, but there was no way his inferior magical experience would continue to carry him through. It was time to focus on her real competition- Cedric and Viktor, and how to beat them.

But first, there was the little matter of the Yule Ball.

Although Fleur did not personally understand the nervous excitement that accompanied the need to invite – or to be invited – to the Ball, she knew how to fake it. She giggled with her classmates as they debated about which school – Hogwarts or Durmstrang – had the best looking wizards and listened as they agonized over everything from whether they would get asked at all, what robes they should wear, and even how far they might be willing to let their date go in getting inside those robes.

Fleur herself had heard the announcement about the Ball, scanned the Hogwarts Great Hall, and then calmly approached the best-looking boy in the room, a Ravenclaw called Roger Davies. Of course, he immediately agreed to go with her, looking a bit dazed as he answered. Fleur was used to that – she had yet to meet a male over the age of 14 who wasn't rendered speechless, at least initially, by her presence. Some got over it faster than others; Fleur thought it would be a lark to see how long it took Roger.

And then there had been that _boy_ , that little redhead who interrupted her, or tried to, while she had been talking to Cedric Diggory. It was always the same with that type, the ones particularly susceptible to her Veela blood. She tried to be gentle; after all, it would not do for Cedric to think her unkind. It didn't matter anyway. The boy had no sooner stuttered out his question and looked at her face before he was muttering "sorry" and fleeing backwards down the corridor, face bright red.

Fleur sighed to herself. Talking about the ball was already tiring her out. She picked up the golden egg that had been her prize for completing the first task. She already knew that it emitted a most horrible screech when opened, but there must be a way to discover its secrets. Picking up her wand, she set to work.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Of course, Fleur knew afterwards that Gabrielle had never truly been in danger, but those long minutes before Harry had pulled her to the surface had tested Fleur's nerves and resolve unlike anything she had encountered before. It was the first time she could remember that her combination of looks and skills had truly failed her, and Fleur was only a little embarrassed at how effusively she reacted, thanking first Harry, and then even that redheaded boy, who was apparently one of Harry's closest friends.

She knew there was now likely little chance that she would win the Tri Wizard cup, but Fleur was never one to give up. If anything, she was more determined than ever to prove herself. After she hadn't invited him to the Yule Ball, Alexandre had finally stopped lurking around Fleur's room, and she had told Roger Davies that yes, it had been a lot of fun, but she was just _too busy_ preparing for the final task to spend more time with him.

But that was not all. Although Fleur was fairly certain that most of her Beauxbatons classmates were oblivious, she had a feeling something else – something Dark – was brewing. Other people's assumption that her head was full of fluff was an advantage in these situations; they were not as careful to quiet the conversations Fleur heard as she walked around Hogwarts castle and grounds, apparently enjoying the views. The missing Tri-wizard judge, the Durmstrang headmaster's plans to run somewhere, even the sight of Harry Potter deep in serious conversation with his red-headed friend and the girl who had gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor all led Fleur to vow to keep her head down and her guard up as the third and final task in the tournament approached.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

She knew she should be concentrating on the final task, reviewing in her head the jinxes and counter-curses she would likely be called upon to use, but Fleur couldn't help but notice the man standing in the corner of the room, speaking quietly to Harry Potter. Man, and not boy, for although the tall redhead was likely not too many years out of school, there was nothing childlike about his broad shoulders, his earring, or the cool confidence he exhibited, as if anything in the room that wished for his attention would simply have to wait until he was ready to grant it.

Fleur swallowed hard. Part of her wanted to toss her long hair or do something _Veela_ to capture the attention of the stranger, but she pushed her mind back to the Third Task and what she needed to do. Six months ago she might have thought _what she needed to do to win,_ but she knew better now. Now, she knew it would be a feat just to finish the course. She forced herself to turn away, wondering if she only imagined the feeling of the man's eyes boring into her back. When she dared sneak a look, on the pretense of leaning over to adjust Gabrielle's collar, she was disappointed to note that his attention was focused fully on Harry and he was looking nowhere near her direction.

Fleur sighed, determined to put the man out of her thoughts, at least for the next several hours. She would find Harry after the final task and question him – casually of course – about the redhead and who he was.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Glad to finally be finished with all the background. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, although I realized I don't really like the name of the story. So if anyone has a better idea, comment and suggest!

Fleur came to awareness slowly. She was lying on her back; she realized the bright dots that had been dancing before her eyes were actually stars in the inky sky. Her entire body ached and her head felt full of cotton. She could hear cheering and lively music behind her and tried to sit up to see what the commotion was about.

As soft hand pushed her back down. "Not yet you don't," a voice said. "Not until I'm sure you won't go and collapse again."

"Collapse?" Fleur was confused. "When did I collapse?" The inability to see anywhere but above was disorienting and she again tried to struggle to a sitting position.

The voice sighed. "Okay then, if you must. But stay on the ground while I finish checking you."

Fleur gingerly turned her head. To her left, enormous hedges grew out of the ground. To the right and in front of her, she could see hundreds of people crowded into raised stands. Most of them were peering at the hedges, cheering and yelling. Nearby, a band played. _The maze. The Third Task._

With a rush, the memories came back. Running through the dark, silent pathways, only able to see a few feet ahead at a time. She had avoided an enormous Blast-ended Skrewt and was listening to a Sphinx's riddle when suddenly . . .

"I was Crucio'ed!" she cried out. "By someone in 'ze maze!"

"'Ze Crucio?" Fleur recognized Madame Maxime's voice. "Impossible!"

The soft hand was on her shoulder again, and now Fleur could see it was the Hogwarts matron. She was waving her wand up and down Fleur's body. "I don't know," she said slowly. "Her injuries are consistent with the Cruciatus Curse. It doesn't seem to have been on her very long, but . . . who could have done it?"

A commotion next to her interrupted the matron's comments. Fleur could see it was Viktor Krum, being levitated out of the maze, apparently unconscious.

"Was he Crucio'ed too?" Madame Maxime asked sharply. "Both of 'ze 'Ogwarts champions are still in 'ze maze."

At her headmistress's words, Fleur shook her head. "Non!" she said. "'Arry and Cedric, 'zey would not . . . I am sure of it." She looked around. "It must be someone else."

The matron was waving her wand over Viktor now. "He was Stupified," she announced. "Not the Cruciatus Curse. He should come to shortly."

"I don't know," said Madame Maxime. She was still next to Fleur, her voice high above. "Cedric and 'Arry, they could have teamed up, decided a win for 'Ogwarts was the most important."

"I really don't 'zink so," said Fleur. She was feeling rather sleepy now. "'Zey are two of 'ze most honorable men I 'ave ever met." There was something important niggling at the corner of her brain, but before she could grasp it fully, there was a loud thump, and two more people appeared at the edge of the maze.

 _Harry and Cedric. And the Cup. But who won?_

For the briefest moment, Fleur wondered if the two boys _had_ somehow conspired to win. But just as quickly as the thought came, she dismissed it. It was true, what she had said to Madame. Harry and Cedric were both honest and honorable. She would not believe they would have done anything untoward to her or Viktor. But, who had?

Then the screaming started.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

A week later, Fleur dressed in her most solemn robes to attend Cedric's memorial service. While the rest of her classmates had left immediately after the tournament's closing banquet, she had insisted on staying. Now she stood with her parents on a hill outside a quaint British town. Ottery St. Catchpole was such a funny name, but Fleur had to admit the area was lovely and peaceful. She stood quietly toward the back of the mourners with her parents, listening to a wizened old wizard speak of Cedric, of his kindness and sense of fair play and fierce, fierce support for his friends. Hearing all this, Fleur felt confident in what she had told Minister Fudge, that she was certain Cedric had not been involved in anything dark. It still bothered her that the British Minister of Magic wanted to believe that Cedric had brought on his death himself, hadn't wanted to hear about the strange voice that had muttered _Imperio_ through the hedges right before she was hit with the Cruciatus curse. Hadn't wanted to even mention Voldemort's name or the possibility that the dark wizard could have returned.

Fleur shook herself out of her thoughts, realizing that the service was ending. She began making her way slowly to the front, to pay her respects to Cedric's parents. In front of her through the crowd, she saw Harry Potter, and next to him, a flash of red. And then another, and another, and more. Fleur sucked in her breath. So many?

Fleur changed directions and headed towards Harry, determined to talk to him, and, if her Veela charms were intact, to meet the tall redheaded man she had seen before the Third Task. Had it really only been a week ago?

She tapped Harry on the shoulder. He stopped and turned around. "Fleur!" he said, with some surprise. Out of the corner of her eye, Fleur was gratified to see that the sea of red had stopped too, and turned. "I didn't know you had stayed. That was . . . that was really nice of you."

Fleur shook her head impatiently, careful to keep her eyes only on Harry. "Eet's nothing. Cedric was my friend." Harry nodded. He looked exhausted, and Fleur could see that he held his wand tightly in one hand, his eyes darting left and right as he scanned the crowd. Fleur knew in that moment that everything she had heard, all the rumors that had been swirling ever since Cedric died, were true. She put her hand on Harry's arm.

"I believe you," she said simply. "I . . . I remember 'ze maze. Eet was not . . . normal, 'zat maze. Eet was evil. And I believe Voldemort is back. No matter what 'zat , 'zat _Tete de Noeud_ Fudge says otherwise."

Harry gave her a tired smile. "Thanks, Fleur. That means a lot." Next to him, someone snorted.

"Tete de Noeud? Why do I think that is some French we need to know?"

Fleur finally dared look up and the people standing with Harry. She gave only the tiniest sigh when she realized the speaker was a boy she recognized from Hogwarts - one of those twins who had tried to trick the Triwizard Cup with an aging potion. His brother stood next to him, exactly alike, an identical look of glee on his face. "What is Tete de Noeud?" one of them asked.

Now Fleur was embarrassed. They were all looking at her. These twins, Harry's friend Ron, a pretty, younger girl she also remembered from Hogwarts, and . . . Oh Dieu, the red haired man, whom she now realized must be one of a large family of brothers. And one sister. And she had just insulted their Minister of Magic. Maybe they were supporters of his?

She took a deep breath and composed herself, calling on her Veela magic. After a moment, she felt her hair fall into more pleasing waves and her skin take on a subtle shimmer. With some satisfaction, she saw the twins and Ron start to look a bit glazed. Even Harry's tight smile had relaxed a bit. She dared a look at the oldest brother and was flustered to see him watching her, a casual grin on his face. He didn't seem affected in the least. The man looked at his brothers and his grin grew. He elbowed the girl next to him.

"Hey Ginny, want to help me with some curse-breaking? I think our brothers are under a spell."

The girl, Ginny, grinned. "Is there any treasure in it for me if I do?"

The man smirked. "Well, Harry's under the spell too. Is that what you mean by treasure?"

Fleur watched the girl turn bright red and hold up her wand. "Don't make me hex you, Bill Weasley! Charlie is still recovering from what I did to him at Christmas, you know."

The man stepped back in mock horror and raised his arms in surrender. "I'm sorry, Gin. Never again." He turned to Fleur. "She may be the smallest, but no one gets in the way of Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex." He held out his hand. "Bill Weasley. Would you mind turning off the Veela thing? I need my brothers coherent to Apparate back to the Burrow."

Fleur didn't know what a Burrow was, but she wasn't going to ask. She took his hand and tried to ignore the small surge of energy she felt. "Fleur Delacour," she said firmly.

"Very nice to meet you, Miss Delacour," said Bill formally. He raised his eyebrows. "So, you just called the Minister of Magic a dickhead?" His face was solemn but Fleur detected just a hint of teasing in his tone. She shrugged.

"Eet fits him, I 'zink."

"Oh, it definitely fits him," Bill agreed, laughing. "I just wanted to make sure whose side you were on. Now, about my brothers?"

"I 'zought you said you could break 'ze curse yourself?" Fleur felt herself flush at the teasing tone in her voice. She _never_ flirted with someone unknown to her – until she knew how susceptible to her charms he was. But this Bill Weasley seemed nearly impervious, and it unsettled her not to have that magic at her disposal.

Bill shrugged modestly. "I break curses for Gringott's bank. I'm sure a little Veela magic would be nothing after what I've seen in the tombs of Egypt, but I wouldn't want to overdo it. You put them under the spell. I'm sure you are more than capable of taking it off."

 _Was he challenging her?_

Fleur shrugged back, not quite sure how to play his game, but unwilling to show it. "Whatever you say," she replied, matching his formality. She flicked her head the tiniest bit and felt the magic recede. In front of her, Ron stopped ruffling his hair and Harry put his glasses back on, looking a bit confused. The twins, however, continued to preen and pose, showing off their muscles and waggling their eyes. Next to them, Ginny huffed.

"Oi! Gred and Forge! She turned it off, so you can stop now!" Fleur detected a hint of annoyance in the girl's tone. It was not unusual, _le jalousie,_ and Fleur usually ignored it. What else was there to do? She just hoped Bill didn't pick up on his sister's feelings, although he she suspected he missed very little. The twins – _Gred and Forge?_ – stopped their antics, not the least bit embarrassed, and Fleur heard Bill give a little sigh.

"If you are all quite finished making arses of yourselves, not you, Ginny, then we need to get back to the Burrow before Mum has kittens that we are late for tea. I think even Percy will be there." Bill was all big brother as he spoke, and Fleur noted that he automatically included Harry in his words.

"The git," one of the twins said under his breath.

"Enough," said Bill sharply. "He's coming, isn't he? Let's try not to escalate things. For Mum and Dad's sake." He turned back to Fleur.

"It was nice to meet you, Miss Delacour. I am glad you are recovered from the Tournament and I hope we can count on your help in the future, since it appears that our _Tete de Noued_ of a Minister will be of no use."

Fleur had to resist the urge to offer Bill the traditional French goodbye of a kiss on either cheek. "Of course, however I can help," she said instead. "It was nice to meet you too."

"Come on, everyone, I see Mum heading this way now, we need to get going." Ginny was tugging on Bill's hand. "Will you take me side-along? The twins are not very good at it yet."

Fleur did not miss the indulgent smile Bill gave his little sister. "Of course. We'll leave Ron and Harry to deal with the risk of being splinched by the twins." With a final bow of his head to Fleur, he grabbed Ginny's arm before turning on the spot.

"Mum and Dad can take you two. Ron wiggles too much anyway." The twins didn't wait for an answer before they too, disappeared.

Harry looked at Fleur. "I appreciate your support. With the Minister and . . . Voldemort and everything."

Fleur could only nod, the unfamiliar feeling caused by her encounter with Bill hadn't totally dissipated and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted it to. Finally, as Harry turned towards an older couple, also with red hair, she found her voice.

"Take care, 'Arry, and . . . Ron," she said. "Maybe I will see you back in England . . . soon."

She turned away then, searching the throng for her own parents. She had been undecided about a career choice until then, and as she saw her Maman and Papa walking towards her, she wondered what it might be like to work in . . . banking for a while.

HPHPHPHPHPHPH

Fleur smoothed down her robes for what must have been the fifth time, even though she knew without looking in the mirror that they hung perfectly on her lithe frame. She was unaccountably edgy, and the feeling unnerved her. Even the butterflies she had felt competing in the Tri-Wizard tournament couldn't compare. Then, she had had her skills first as a witch and only somewhat as a Veela to rely on. This time, she was unsure which she would be called upon to use.

"Ahh yes, Miss Delacour. We are delighted to have you join us – for the year, correct? I trust your journey from Lyon was not difficult? Do you need some time to freshen up? Something to eat or drink, maybe?" The effusiveness of the little man who greeted her in the Gringotts reception room calmed her; here was behavior she understood. She gave him a pleasant smile.

"I am fine, 'zank you, I mean, ttthank you, Mr. Gardiner. I am hoping to 'emprove my English while I am here." Fleur looked around, pretending the consider something, and then called on just a bit extra Veela magic before turning back to the Gringotts hiring manager.

"I am very much looking forward to working at Gringotts," she said carefully. I 'ave 'eard particularly good things about 'ze, how do you say, 'ze curse breakers?" She gave Mr. Gardiner a guileless smile.

He easily took the bait. "Ahh yes, our curse breakers are a powerful lot," he said, nodding. "Lively too. You are certain to learn a lot from them. Not like working for the Goblins, no sir. They keep to themselves, the Goblins do. It's no place for a young woman anyway. Yes, yes. I think you should start by observing the curse breakers." He tapped his wand on the nearby desk and a large image of a spreadsheet appeared in the air.

"Let's see who is here right now. Our curse breakers tend to travel a lot, you know. Depending on where the cursed treasure is. Some can be transported here, but sometimes, it is better to work on the vault or what have you in the field." He peered more carefully at the sheet. "Hmm. It looks like we have three here this week. Miss Wrightwood is working on some enchanted necklaces and tiaras we obtained on that raid of Borgin and Burke. You probably like jewelry, don't you?" Mr. Gardiner peered over his spectacles at Fleur.

"Ahh, yes, I do like jewelry," Fleur said easily. "But, maybe you 'ave some'zing more . . . substantial? After all, I see jewelry all 'ze time."

"Of course, of course, silly me," the man said. "Of course you want to see something new. Well, I have Collin Merkins working on a number of artifacts recently discovered in a secret room at the Department of Mysteries – just appeared one day, no explanation. Quite odd. And Bill Weasley is researching the location of caves where those, those, _Death Eaters_ might be hiding treasure. Horrible group, have you heard of them?" He didn't wait for answer, but prattled on. "Bill doesn't have any actual cursed items to work on at present, but there might be a nice opportunity for a bit of travel once he identifies a site. Do either of those interest you?"

Fleur pretended to consider the question, all the while trying to hide her relief that Bill was here. It hadn't occurred to her, when she had sought out a year's internship at Gringotts, that curse breakers did not spend all their days at a desk, but of course, they must travel a lot.

"I 'zink, I mean, I think I would like to work with Mr. Weasley," she said with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "'Ze chance to travel around England would be lovely."

"Wonderful, wonderful," beamed Mr. Gardiner. By his reaction one might have thought that Fleur had just agreed to a date. "Let me take you down there now, get you two introduced. He's a powerful curse breaker, Weasley is. You will learn a lot."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur kept her Veela magic humming lightly as they approached the rooms where the curse breakers worked. Bill hadn't shown any reaction to it the last time she had seen him, but maybe, the element of surprise would make a difference.

But as she and Mr. Gardiner approached the wide arch that opened into the curse breakers' main work area, Bill himself walked out, carrying a large metal box. Fleur was still halfway down the hall when their eyes met, too far away for the little bit of power she was radiating to have much of an impact. It may have been her imagination, but she thought she saw Bill hesitate for the briefest instant, the ghost of a smile flitting across his face when he saw her, before continuing down the corridor in their direction.

"Reg, good to see you! And Miss Delacour, what brings you to England and . . . Gringotts?"

Fleur had to give Bill credit. He hadn't even attempted to play games, pretend not to remember her, or ask to be introduced. And yet, he seemed unsurprised to see her.

"I am 'ere, I mean, _here,_ in England, at Gringotts, to work on my Eenglish," she said carefully.

Bill raised his eyebrows. "At Gringotts for English lessons, hmm? Goblins don't really make good teachers."

"There are wizards at Gringotts too!" Fleur said with more indignation than she had intended. "You are a wizard, non?"

Before Bill could respond, Mr. Gardiner jumped in. "Of course Bill's a wizard, and one of the best curse breakers we have! Miss Delacour was particularly interested in shadowing your work, searching for enchanted caves."

Bill raised his eyebrows again and Fleur groaned softly to herself. Mr. Gardiner might as well have said she was stalking Bill Weasley! She mustered her Veela energy before answering haughtily, "I 'ave always been interested in destroying Dark Magic. You just 'appened to be working on the most interesting project today. That's all."

Again, her Veela charms seemed wasted on Bill. While Mr. Gardiner began straightening his collar and smoothing down his robes, Bill merely smiled at her, supremely calm.

"Well, I just _happen_ to be on my way to pick up some charmed maps that will show us where to look for cursed caves," Bill said to her. "If I'm going to be teaching you English, you might as well come along with me now to get them. I'll explain the charm along the way." He shifted the box in his arms and pointed down a corridor to the left. "Shall we?"

Fleur looked at Mr. Gardiner, who was now twirling his mustache. "Is it okay if I . . .?" she began.

"Yes, yes, go, go!" he said happily. "You might as well start your training now. You can stop by at the end of the day. Bill, you will take good care of Miss Delacour, won't you?"

Fleur expected a cocky answer, but when Bill spoke, his voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him.

"Oh, I will take very, very good care of Miss Delacour. I promise."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

They walked in silence for a long minute, not looking at each other, and Fleur got the impression Bill was waiting for her to speak first, that he could wait as long as necessary. She considered letting him wait but then she remembered he hadn't played games himself. _This was what you wanted,_ Fleur reminded herself.

"So, 'ow, I mean, how do you get the maps to enchant? A charm?" Her voice sounded entirely natural - talking to men _was_ a specialty of hers, of course – but she found herself inexplicably unable to make eye contact.

When he answered, Bill's voice matched hers in casualness. "Yes, several charms that fire in a precise order, actually. The maps become imbued with strong magic themselves and can be dangerous to handle. That is why I have the box."

"Is it . . ." Fleur bit back her question about whether his job was _really dangerous._ It was the kind of question she might have asked someone she was certain was affected by her charms, to make him think she both scared and impressed at the importance of his risky job.

But she knew already that her magic did not affect him, and she knew being a curse breaker was dangerous.

"Is it what?" Bill's voice was mild, but once again, Fleur got the impression that he knew exactly what she had been about to say. She thought quickly.

"Is it ever, I mean, is there ever a curse you cannot break?" They had stopped walking. _When had they stopped walking?_ And now she dared to look up at him.

He was looking down at her, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. Not yet there isn't," he said. "Some . . . spells . . . are more work to figure out and understand, but so far I have been able to open everything I have come across. Eventually."

"I am looking forward to learning about 'ow you break 'ze spells," she said softly. He didn't reply, just nodded, and they continued walking until they reached a heavy wooden door. He turned to her suddenly, a serious look on his face.

"I normally wouldn't take someone new in here. Not until they had more instruction and training. There are dangers in here, and it could be . . . " He shook his head. "But since Reg seemed to think it was okay, I guess you are coming in. Stay close to me and don't touch anything." He reached for his wand, juggling the metal box as he did so. He swore as both slipped out of his hands.

Without even thinking about it, Fleur pointed her wand at the box. " _Leviosa!"_ she said as firmly as she could, using the British pronounciation for the spell to stop something falling. The box hovered a couple of inches above the ground between them, bobbing there quietly while Fleur kept her wand trained on it.

"Thanks," Bill said. "You're quick with your wand." She heard the smile in his voice and resisted the urge to look up at him.

"Oui. I am," she said. And then, feeling bold, "especially when I am angry. You don't cross a Veela when she 'ees angry."

Bill chuckled. "I will be sure to stay on your good side then. Although, from what I can see, they all seem to be your good side."

He reached down and grabbed his wand off the floor. "Can you levitate it into the room after I open the wards?"

Fleur froze at Bill's double entendre. _Had he just . . .?_ Most men had trouble flirting properly with her and she didn't have much experience coming up with a quick retort _._ Unsure how to respond, she quickly nodded, and twisted her wand so that the box turned with its narrow end facing the doorway and took a couple of steps in that direction.

"Wait." Bill put his hand on her arm to stop her. Even through her robes, Fleur could feel the jolt of energy caused by his touch. Almost immediately, the hand was gone and next to her, Fleur heard a quiet intake of breath. She waited, eyes firmly trained on the box, until he spoke again.

"I appreciate your saving my feet, but once we get inside. Absolutely no magic. None at all. Understand?" He spoke without a hint of teasing in his voice. "Better to let the box fall on the ground, lest you interrupt a charm or cause greater damage."

Fleur finally looked Bill square in the face. His eyes were deep blue and now they were gazing at her with an intensity that she couldn't be certain was solely to make sure she understood his caution.

"I understand," she said firmly. "I will only watch and keep my mouth shut."

Bill's lips bent. "I didn't say you couldn't talk," he said with a smirk. "Aren't you here to learn proper English?" He leaned around her and waved his wand in a complicated pattern until the door swung inward.

Once again, a sharp retort eluded her and the best she could manage was a haughty look that usually had men falling all over themselves. Bill chuckled again and said, "remember, no magic," before entering the room.

With a small sigh, Fleur pushed the box ahead of her and followed him.

Inside, the room was unimpressive at first. From Bill's warnings, Fleur had expected bubbling cauldrons, smoky fires, maybe even ghostly apparitions. Instead, there were a number of wide tables, each containing various objects that spun or glowed or both. A witch with spiky gray hair stood at one table, pointing her wand at a tiara that was slowly rotating in front of her while she muttered spells. When she caught sight of Bill and Fleur, she lowered her wand – and the tiara gently floated back to the table.

"Ahh Bill, here for the maps? They've been humming more. Starting to get rather bothersome, actually." The witch grinned widely and Fleur knew she was teasing. "And who is your friend?"

"This is Fleur Delacour," said Bill. "She is going to be shadowing me for a while, improving her English by learning about curse breaking. Fleur, this is the best 'breaker at Gringotts, Miriam Wrightwood."

"Hah, oldest maybe. I don't know about best. Not when you are around." She walked around the table and peered closely at Fleur. "Part Veela, if I'm not mistaken. Well, no wonder you picked Bill to learn from. He's never spent more than a month with any one witch." Miriam was obviously someone who never held back what she was thinking.

"Oi, Miriam, give it a rest. You're almost as bad as my mum!" said Bill, laughing. Fleur saw a hint of a blush climb up his cheeks and she smiled to herself. _Finally, a bit of emotion!_

Miriam was not at all embarrassed. "Now Bill," she said fondly. "You're one of the most eligible bachelors in all the Wizarding World. I would love to see you settle down, raise a family. But in the meantime . . ." she trailed off, looking meaningfully at Fleur.

Bill glanced at her and Fleur felt the same tingle of energy as when he'd put his hand on her arm. She stared frankly back as she answered for both of them.

"I am 'ere to work on my Eenglish, nothing more,"

She suspected she wasn't the only one in the room who knew it was a lie.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, why do you want to be a curse breaker?" Bill's voice was casually friendly again, his wand held loosely as he levitated the box containing the charmed maps in front of them in the corridor.

Fleur paused. Of course, she didn't really want to learn to be a curse breaker per se. Her desire to come to England, to Gringotts, to the curse breaking department, had begun as a lark solely to meet the man now walking next to her. After the stress of the past year, she wanted – no, she deserved – a break, and a harmless crush on an attractive and intelligent man seemed a reasonable escape. If a job resulted from her scheme, so much the better.

She couldn't admit a word of this to Bill. Even the story she had given her parents to justify staying in England focused more on _finding herself_ than finding _someone._ But she to have a story, so she gave him a version of what she had told Mr. Gardiner when she had first contacted the bank.

"I am trying to decide what 'ees 'ze best job for me, now 'zat I 'ave graduated," she said. "And 'ze job opportunities are better 'een England 'zan in France," she said, carefully skirting the issue of just what kind of opportunities she was looking for "Eespecially for a . . . for . . . someone like me." She assumed he would understand.

"Someone like you," said Bill slowly. "You mean, someone quick with a wand? Someone who has battled dragons and Grindylows? Someone who survived the Cruciatus Curse?" His voice was light but Fleur heard real curiosity behind his words.

Momentarily stunned that Bill knew so much about her activities of the past year, Fleur finally shook her head. "Non, someone _Veela,_ " she explained with more vehemence than needed. "Someonewhom everyone 'zinks doesn't 'ave a brain in 'er head. Someone good only for picking jewelry and finding a new man every month. You 'eard 'zat Miriam. Even she knows." Unspoken was the fact that Miriam had not, in fact, been wrong in her assessment of most Veela. But Fleur was surprised how much it bothered her all of a sudden. It had all been well and good to use her Veela charms to help get herself to England, but now that she was here, with a man for whom all this was not merely a lark, Fleur felt the need to prove herself bubble up again.

"Looks like maybe you can be both," said Bill mildly. He seemed unperturbed by her outburst and Fleur was once again struck by how little her magic seemed to affect him. "I'll tell you what," he said. "Even though you are not formally one of our trainees, I'll teach you as much as I can about curse breaking – as much as I can while keeping you from getting killed, of course." Bill's continued its mild tone, but Fleur could tell he wasn't joking about the danger. "And if you find you don't like what I do, you can trot along off to another department, no harm done. Although . . ." he continued with a sudden smirk. "I have a feeling you are going to very much _like what I do, oui, ma Cherie?_

His innuendo and perfect French startled her, and Fleur suddenly remembered that Bill had translated her insult of the Minister of Magic as well. _Was there nothing this man couldn't do?_ He went quiet, an Fleur suddenly realized she was staring at him while he waited for her to respond to his suggestion. She let her Veela magic flare slightly. Even if it didn't affect him, she needed the extra boost of confidence.

"I 'zink, I mean, think, that is a very good plan," she said carefully. "But I am sure I will like 'ze curse breaking. You seem like a very good teacher."

"Oh, I am," Bill agreed with a grin. He gestured to the open doorway. "Shall we begin?"

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Over the next weeks, Fleur learned a lot, about curse-breaking, the English language, and the Weasley family. Even on her first day, no sooner had Bill carefully lowered the box of enchanted maps onto the floor inside a shimmering orange circle, than a silvery Patronus of a bear dropped down beside them. Fleur squeaked in surprise; she had seen Patronuses before, of course, and had even conjured one herself on occasion, but she had never seen one outside of her classroom and never one that spoke.

"Bill, I hope I'm not interrupting," the bear had the voice of an older woman. By the bemused look on Bill's face, Fleur guess it was his _Maman_. "I need to talk to you, actually, your father and I need to talk to you. About Percy. Have you seen him, maybe in Diagon Alley? Or at work? It's just been so . . . we don't know . . . I mean, I just wish . . ." The voice broke off in what sounded like a sob and Fleur saw Bill's mouth tighten. "Oh, don't mind me, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Drop by the Burrow when you can – I'm sure you need a hot meal. And please, Bill, cut your hair!"

The bear faded away. Fleur stood very quietly, watching the place it had been.

"My brother, Percy," Bill said quietly. "has made his alleigance to the Ministry his highest priority."

"'E was working for that Mr. Crouch, was 'e not? 'Ze judge 'oo was killed by 'zat, 'zat madman."

Bill nodded. "Percy should have alerted someone months earlier that Mr. Crouch had stopped coming to work. But instead, he took it upon himself to pick up all Mr. Crouch's duties. And what did the Ministry do to punish him for his negligence? Gave him a fucking promotion!"

The anger in Bill's voice was unmistakable, whether for his brother's actions or the pain it obviously caused his mother, Fleur was not sure. She spoke carefully. "'Eet is harder, I 'zink, sometimes, to forgive yourself for making a mistake than it is for those who love to forgive you."

"I know," said Bill heavily. "But . . . he's siding with the Ministry. Against Harry, against Dumbledore, against all of us. And I cannot forgive that."

"And you shouldn't 'ave to. 'E needs to figure 'eet out on 'is own."

"It's killing my parents, though. You heard my mum just now."

Fleur suspected Bill would not have been so open if he had not been so upset by his mother's message. "Yes, it should be 'ardest on 'ze Maman and Papa. 'A parent's love, 'eet is different. But 'zey don't need to 'ear that you cannot forgive your brother. Because they will forgive him, any time he asks."

Bill looked at her in surprise. "I know. But I think I needed to hear someone else say it. Thank you."

"Of course."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Within a few days, Fleur fell into a pattern of having lunch with Bill at the shop just across diagon alley from Gringotts. Other curse breakers were back in the office now, but no one suggested that Fleur start working with anyone else, and she certainly didn't mention it.

She had been assigned a cubby for her things right next to the class of new trainees that had started the week before she had. There were five of them, and Fleur suspected they didn't think much of her, since she was merely "floating" through the various departments at Gringotts and not seriously learning how to break curses. It didn't stop her from attending as many of their lessons as she could. Bill was teaching the majority of the curriculum for this training class (the senior curse breakers traded off), and Miriam was also an excellent instructor, despite her habit of pointing out Fleir's "Veela-ness" at every opportunity.

"Miriam was impressed with your Patronus." You've clearly been practicing," he said as they walked towards the lift. Fleur hadn't seen Bill yet that day, having decided to attend a lecture with Miriam that morning about how to destroy small cursed objects.

"We don't spend much time on 'zem at Beauxbatons," Fleur explained. 'Arry told me 'e learned how to cast one 'is third year."

"I think his circumstances were unusual," said Bill. "It's usually taught in the 6th year and many students don't master it until much later. It's a really useful spell, though." His grin grew a little sly. "A peacock? Why am I not surprised?"

"What is wrong with 'ze peacock?" Asked Fleur indignantly . "'Zey are very beautiful and strong."

Bill glanced at her. "They certainly are," he said slowly. "And proud too."

Fleur wanted to ask him what he meant - as usual a sharp retort eluded her, but she could have asked him for more - but Bill continued speaking.

"I think it might be good practice for the trainees - the males at least - to try some practice curse breaking while in the presence of a Veela using her magic," he said. "What do you think?"

Fleur suspected that using her magic to confuse the trainees would not help improve their opinion of her, but she wasn't at Gringotts to make friends.

"Of course," she said. "But what about 'ze girl, Annabelle? She won't be affected."

"There are two women," Bill corrected. "We'll have to find a different test for Annabelle and Simone."

Fleur snorted delicately. "Simone will be affected," she said pointedly. "I am sure of 'eet."

Bill laughed. "Well okay then. I didn't know it worked that way." They had arrived at the cafe and Bill walked past her to open the door. "After you," he said formally. It had become a bit of a joke with them, his insistence on chivalry, and, despite thinking she should protest that she was quite capable of opening her own doors, Fleur had to admit she liked it.

They were later than normal; every table was full and a couple of groups were standing in the small space, waiting.

Bill swore. "I have to lecture the trainees in an hour," he said. "Sorry we won't have time for this today." He did truly look disappointed, and Fleur realized how much she had been looking forward to their time together.

Without even thinking about it, or maybe because Bill had been talking about her magic, Fleur let hers grow until her skin had taken on its characteristic shimmer. A group of men at a nearby table -low level Ministry workers by the look of them - stopped eating to stare. Fleur game them a glowing smile.

"Excuse me, mais vous-etre finis?" French, even when not understood, was always the most effective.

Despite the fact that most of their plates were still at least half full, the men all swallowed whatever they were eating, nodded, and began jumping up to dump their food in the nearby waste bin.

"Yes, yes, please, have a seat, you must be so tired and hungry," one of them said to her, while another pulled out his chair. The third man was rifling through his wallet, looking for money. "What can I get you?" He asked. "I'll just pop up to the counter, get you something."

Fleur smiled and tossed her hair. "No, no. 'Zank you, but I am fine now. You 'ave a nice day." She lowered her charms just a bit so that the men would actually be able to leave, which they finally did, after much bowing and air kisses.

Fleur turned towards the door where Bill was, smiling and patting the seat beside her. But instead of the appreciation she had expected, Bill looked distinctly annoyed, even angry.

He weaved through the tables to where she was sitting but didn't join her, instead stood over her with his arms crossed.

"What was all that about?" He asked crossly.

"What do you mean? We needed a table and didn't 'ave time to wait." Fleur couldn't understand why Bill was so upset.

"So you think it's okay to use Veela magic to trick men into giving up their food and their table for you? Not to mention that you jumped ahead of the other people who were waiting." He shook his head.

Fleur forced herself to stay calm. She didn't know this man well yet, and despite his anger, and her own matching emotion, she knew that exploding wasn't the answer. That didn't stop her from answering sharply though.

"I am a Veela," she said stiffly. "My magic is part of me and I use it when I need. If I have to encounter people not taking me seriously because 'zey think I care only about my looks, 'zen I should be able to use my looks to my advantage too." Her voice and her magic had risen while she was speaking and heads at several nearby tables began to turn.

Bill however, continued to glare at her. He took a deep breath and Fleur assumed he was trying to control his anger. "I don't think. . ." He began.

"You are right, you don't think," interrupted Fleur. "You 'ave no problem asking me to be a Veela when it 'elps you teach your trainees, even 'zough 'zey already think I am not good enough for anything else but 'being pretty' but when I use my magic as it is intended, you are mad." She glared back at him, arms crossed.

Bill closed his eyes and took another deep breath . _Mon Dieu, he was good at controlling his emotions!_ When he opened them again to look at her, some of the anger had left them.

"You are right," he said quietly. "That wasn't exactly fair of me. I just . . . I don't like to see people manipulated by magic. There are curses that do that too."

Fleur was surprised by the apology; she rarely had encountered men who would have bothered. And she found that she understood his concern.

"I am sorry too," she said. "I would never use my magic to cause harm or embarrassment. But I cannot always help it 'ze way people react to me."

Bill nodded. "But when you can help it, you should. If you don't want to help with the trainees, I understand."

Fleur thought about it for a moment and found that she still inexplicably wanted to do what Bill asked. She shrugged.

"It is fine," she said. "But I think I am no longer 'ungry. I am going to go back to Gringotts and I will see you later in your lesson on Egypt."

"You don't want to eat?" asked Bill. "Now that we have the table?"

Fleur shook her head. "No, I am fine."

She stood up, and in her rush to get out her arm brushed his as she swept out the door. Only when she was outside again did she bother pulling back her Veela magic. She did not look back at Bill, but if she had, she would have wondered at the tremor that passed through him and the way his eyes dilated as they watched her leave.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I realize that in canon, Bill has been curse breaking in Egypt and that when he's back in England, it's at a desk job, but what is the fun in that? Please review! This story is a departure for me, as it's not strictly H/G (although there are going to be some good Harry/Ginny missing moments later).

When Bill casually asked Fleur the next day if she wanted to grab a bite to eat, Fleur agreed, and it was as if the previous day hadn't happened. At lunch, Bill asked a lot of questions about France and whether Fleur was familiar with the caves at Lascaux; apparently they had been a popular site throughout history for foreign wizards to hide treasure, and Bill was interested to see if any still remained.

"Maybe we could take a trip there for the bank one day," said Bill, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were sitting at the very same table Fleur had commandeered the day before. "My French isn't very good, though."

Fleur remembered how easily he had translated her ranting against the Minister of Magic and suspected he was knew more than he was letting on, and said so. To his credit, Bill blushed.

"I do know a bit of French," he allowed. "But it's nowhere near as strong as your English. Maybe you can teach me some more one of these days?"

Fleur appreciated Bill's clumsy way of trying to use flattery on her. Unlike the men who succumbed to her Veela charms, there was nothing about Bill's offer that felt disingenuous or false. Here was a man who was unaccustomed to making missteps with woman, and Fleur smiled at the awkward request.

"Of course, I will teach you 'ze French," she said. "And you will please keep 'elping me with my English."

"It's a deal," he said with a smile. "And now we should get back so that you can observe my truly amazing practical lesson on how to identify cursed burial sites."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

A week later, Bill strode into the room and nodded seriously to the trainees and then to Fleur as if the two of them had not just spent the past hour in a lively discussion about Bill's intense dislike of paperwork. Fleur had pointed out that it was his own fault for being so good at his job, and playfully suggested that if he would just fail a bit more often, there would be less to do. Bill had been indignant.

" _Ahh, but why should I be punished for my success? It's not my fault I am able to break nearly every curse I encounter. In fact, Gringotts should have some of the less successful curse breakers do my paperwork for me!" He waggled his eyes and Fleur knew he was joking._

" _Do all curse breakers 'ave such an ego, or only the best ones?" she teased back. It had taken her a couple of weeks to get used to Bill's verbal sparring and Fleur still wasn't entirely comfortable with it. It was disconcerting to have to think about what she was going to say, but once Fleur decided that it would be good practice for her to learn not to rely on her Veela magic, talking casually to Bill became easier._

" _So, you recognize that it's true, that I'm the best," retorted Bill. He was leaning back in his chair, an amused smile on his face. Fleur again had the uncanny feeling that he knew exactly how difficult it was for her to converse with him. She was delighted when a proper response came to her._

" _Best at curse-breaking, maybe. I don't know you well enough to say you are 'ze best at anything else," she replied. She forced herself to look him in the eye._

 _Bill chuckled. "Well, we just may have to change that knowledge, one of these days."_

Fleur flushed to herself, remembering the conversation. She was relieved that Veela tended not to turn red when they blushed or were otherwise embarrassed. But when she looked up to pay attention to the lesson, she had to hide her gasp of surprise.

Bill had taken off his robes and for the first time, Fleur could see the outline of his broad shoulders and muscular stomach underneath the ancient concert t-shirt he was wearing. Dragon's Fire, the band was apparently called. Fleur hadn't heard of them, but trainee Archie Orion called out, "were you at the show where they had two Common Welsh Greens flying around the stage and one attacked the drummer? It was wicked!"

Bill nodded. "He was lucky he wasn't killed. My brother Charlie handles dragons in Romania and he said those Welsh Greens are not to be trifled with, despite how prevalent they are." He turned to Fluer. "You battled one last year during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, didn't you? A nesting mother?"

The trainees looked at her with what could only be described as disbelief, and Fleur tossed her hair at them and nodded. "I 'ad to capture 'er egg and escape her nest," she said proudly.

Bill seemed inexplicably pleased with her answer. "You certainly did," he said. "Charlie was there and said it was something to see."

Again, Fleur wondered at Bill's knowledge of her activities in the past year. She suspected his comments were aimed at the trainees; he had clearly absorbed her complaint that they didn't think much of her skills. She supposed she should be annoyed that he had taken it upon himself to defend her; she was quite capable of doing that on her own, but she couldn't find it in her to get very angry. Bill was still looking at her with a lazy smile on his face and suddenly Fleur felt warm under her robes. She shook her head to herself and forced a deep breath. When she looked up, Bill was gesturing to a number of small objects on a nearby table.

"Today's is a practical lesson," he said. "Sometimes, you will find treasure where each piece has been individually cursed and it is too difficult or dangerous to break each curse individually in the field. There are a number of different containment and transport spells we use to get the objects safely back to a location where the curse can be broken. You need to know the correct spells to choose for each situation and then implement them in the proper order. I don't need to remind you that a mistake can cost you your life." Bill spoke mildly, but Fleur knew how serious he was; a discussion about safety and proper procedures accompanied every lesson they had and she knew of a senior breaker who was currently in St. Mungo's recovering from a serious accident caused by the mis-mapping of the location of a cursed tomb in Egypt.

Bill began pointing out the objects on the table, a pair of candlesticks, two small piles of gold, a diamond and ruby-encrusted ring and another that seemed to be made entirely of glowing opals, and a shimmering platinum sword.

"Each item has been imbued with a different curse – don't worry, these are pretty mild, but you will know quickly if one gets you. I'll start by demonstrating how to identify the basic characteristics of each curse so that you know which spells are called for, and then I'll show you what those spells are. Then you can each have a go at containing or neutralizing the curse and then transferring the object to the table in the next workroom." Bill was animated as he spoke about the mechanics of curse breaking, and Fleur could not help but smile to see him so happy not to be working on paperwork today.

Fleur had no trouble neutralizing the spell around a pile of gold and containing the curses on both rings. She could tell Bill had watched her intently as she carefully prepared the opals for non-animate apparition and didn't miss his subtle nod of approval when the ring arrived intact on the table in the next room.

Not all of the trainees were as successful.

Within the first minute of practice, Corwyn LeMaster yelped from a Stinging Hex; he had forgotten to assess whether the sword's curse covered its entire surface or was contained in the handle. And Simone Cutler was currently chasing one of the rings around the room, trying to get her spell focused enough to grab the item out of the air.

After her initial success, Fleur had more trouble with the candlesticks. She properly identified that they each contained a separate curse, but her attempts to neutralize either of them kept failing. She was biting her lip in concentration and saying the words to the incantation in her head in the clearest English she could muster when she suddenly felt a presence behind her.

"If you can't neutralize them, try a containment spell, one for each." Bill had come up behind her and was standing so close that if Fleur had taken even a small step back, they would have been standing together like spoons. She froze, feeling her skin tingle from the near contact.

"Here, let me show you." Before she could say a word, Bill had leaned forward and stretched his arm around to grab her wand hand. "You've done a good job with the identification; it's just that having to place two different spells that is tricky." He turned her hand gently, pointing her wand at one of the candlesticks while slowly saying the spell. The candlestick glowed briefly and rose a few inches off the ground before settling back on her table.

"Now you try it with the second." Bill's voice was low in her ear. "Do you want me to help you with the motion again while you say the spell?" He moved a tiny bit forward as if to correct her grip and Fleur could feel the long planes of his body just barely brushing against her.

"Yes, please," whispered Fleur. She was sure Bill could feel her trembling.

Together, they contained the curse in the second candlestick.

"Show me how you transport them, one by one."

Fleur nodded, trying to calm her racing thoughts and pounding pulse. She carefully pointed her wand at the table and said the spell. One candlestick immediately disappeared and Bill made a quiet sound of approval. Encouraged, she turned to the second one, but this time her voice tripped over the final word. The candlestick rocked for a second before finally disappearing with a louder pop and sending a surprising, stinging pain into her chest. She involuntarily stepped backwards.

Bill was still holding her arm when the curse activated. "Shit," she heard him mutter. He dropped her arm and jumped away from her.

Fleur was more than flustered. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "My English . . ."

"Don't worry about it," said Bill quickly. "You did really well, that is a hard spell." He sounded almost as flustered as she felt and Fleur knew she hadn't imagined the feel of _him,_ hard against her bum for the barest second when she had backed up.

"I'm just going to . . . work with Simone over there. Before that ring flies completely out of the room." He was gone in an instant and Fleur was both relieved and disappointed. She took a deep breath and then walked over to where trainee Annabelle Sumner was standing over one of the piles of gold.

The woman had her wand out and a frustrated look on her face. No matter how she turned her wrist, and spoke the words, the spell refused to settle around the gold. "Damn, what's wrong with me?" she said half to herself. She looked up and saw Fleur. "Do you have any idea what I'm doing wrong? You were able to banish the curse the first time, weren't you?"

"You have to feel a vibration before you say 'ze second part of 'ze incantation." Fleur had more patience for Anabelle, who had a photographic memory for things like Runes and their meanings, than most of the other trainees. But Anabelle sometimes struggled with the more practical applications of curse breaking and Fleur suspected that she would eventually be best off working in a library or some other research entity.

"'Ere, let me show you." Fleur held out her wand, but before saying the containment spell, she first carefully said the words that would cause her spell to freeze at the end of her wand. It worked, and the blue sparks froze as soon as they emerged. Touching her wand tip to Anabelle's Fleur said the second part of the transfer spell, and the sparks moved from Fleur's wand to the other witch's.

"Now say 'ze containment spell while you turn your wrist to the left," said Fleur. As she watched, Anabelle complied and the blue sparks flew over the pile of gold, covering it completely.

"It worked!" she cried happily.

"Now 'ze transport spell," reminded Fleur. In seconds, the gold had disappeared and the witches grinned at each other.

"What the hell was that?" Bill's voice interrupted their celebration and Fleur realized the room had otherwise become completely silent.

"'Eet was the transfer spell, of course," said Fleur defensively. "We learn 'eet at Beauxbatons in our Seventh Year. 'Eet is very 'elpful. . . hhhelpful, to teach young wizards and witches what a properly cast spell should feel like on 'ze wand." She was suddenly very conscious of her accent and the fact that everyone was staring at her.

It was silent for a half second more and then Bill broke into an enormous grin. "It's fucking amazing, is what it is. I've never heard of the spell before. Was that French? I couldn't follow the words."

"'Eet is Gallic. Ancient French," she explained. Her eyes sought his and Fleur could see the admiration in them, along with something else that made her skin start to tingle again.

"I will teach all of you, if you want," she said to the room. There were murmurs of appreciation from the trainees. and then Bill raised his hands.

"Okay everyone, that's it for today. I'll take care of putting the objects you succeeded in transferring away; tomorrow we will work on breaking down any residual curses."

The other students gathered up their things and left chattering to each other. Fleur was sure she caught words such as "never seen before" and "wouldn't have thought" as they left and she smiled to herself.

And then Bill was next to her, holding a box of the objects the class had not managed to transport. He bumped his hip against hers. "Any other secret French spells I should know about? Because that last one was amazing."

She shrugged and smiled. "Maybe. We will have to see."

HPHPHPHPHP

Word of her transfer spell got around, and Fleur spent the following week demonstrating and then teaching the other curse breakers to do it. She never tired of seeing them walk into the room, slightly patronizing smiles on their faces for what they expected would be a silly performance, and then watching their indulgence change to disbelief and admiration at her abilities.

Finally, everyone in the curse breaking department know how to transfer spells from one wand to another, and Fleur looked forward to things getting back to normal. She and Bill hadn't had lunch together in several days and she was eager to resume their meetings.

But the next morning, Reginald Gardiner was waiting for her as soon as she arrived at work. She didn't even notice him standing in the containment room at first; her mind was engaged in one of her favorite recent memories, that of Bill's arm circling hers as he taught her a spell. Only, in her daydreams, he pressed himself much more closely against her and did not move away.

"Reg, what brings you down here?" Bill's very real voice interrupted Fleur's fantasy.

"Ahh, Bill, yes. I needed to speak to you. And to Miss Delacour, if I may."

"Sure Reg, let me look for her. I'm not sure what she might be up to. She tends to keep to herself, I think." Bill's voice was wary and his lie sounded obvious to Fleur. She frowned to herself. _What did it matter if she and Bill had lunch together? There were no rules against it._

A moment later, Bill popped his head into the trainees' cubby area. "Fleur, are you in here? Reg is asking . . . Oh, there you are, I didn't see you come in." Bill's voice had taken on an overly friendly tone and Fleur fought back a smile.

"Yes, I just arrived," she said formally. "What does Mr. Gardiner want?"

Bill shrugged. "I guess you'll have to ask him yourself."

What Mr. Gardiner wanted was to tell Fleur that the Goblins were shorthanded and she was needed upstairs to help with "customer relations."

"Sometimes the Goblins can be a bit . . . gruff," he said. "There are some customers who prefer a pretty face and gentle demeanor when they come to the bank."

Fleur was sure she heard Bill snort quietly and mutter _gentle demeanor my arse,_ but she was careful not to look at him, nor to let her disappointment show.

"Of course, Mr. Gardiner. I will go wherever the bank needs."

"She's not expected to take customers down into the vaults, is she? The wards are dangerous – even deadly - for non-Goblins. I won't let her work down there."

Despite the fact that Fleur quite agreed with Bill's assessment of the vaults, his domineering tone immediately raised her ire. She rounded on him, not bothering to control the anger in her voice.

"And who are you to say where I can or cannot work? 'Ave I not proven that I am as good at curse breaking as your trainees? Maybe even better than some? I can 'andle whatever Mr. Gardiner needs me to do, even take customers into their vaults, if necessary." Fleur tossed her hair and glared at Bill. She knew she was being irrational; there were few wizards at Gringotts who knew better than he how dangerous it could be for a non-Goblin to try to break one of the enchantments around the bank vaults. Next to them, Mr. Gardiner had gone silent, his initial surprise at her outburst replaced by an eager smile as Fleur's Veela magic covered him.

"Ahh yes, Miss Delacour, I'm sure we can arrange for you to go into the vaults, if that is what you want. Why, I might even take you down there myself. I'm an excellent trolley driver, you know." He peered eagerly at her.

Bill stepped around Fleur and pointed his wand at Reg, muttering a few words. The adoration immediately faded from the older man's eyes and he looked rather confused. He looked back and forth between Fleur and Bill and then stuttered, "Oh, no, of course we would never let Miss Delacour down into the vaults. The Goblins wouldn't allow it anyway. It's not safe. No, no, she will be meeting upstairs with new accounts. In an office. Right next to mine, actually."

Bill lowered his wand. "That should be fine," he said tersely.

Fleur stared at him. "I am so glad you approve," she said. "Even though it is not your decision to make." Her voice was low so that only Bill could here. He gave her an inscrutable look and then nodded at Reg.

"Right then, I need to get back to my work. The maps we enchanted are starting to give up some good information; I hope to be able to identify which ones have treasure in the next few days." He reached out his hand towards Fleur. "Miss Delacour, it has been a pleasure to work with you. Good luck at your next assignment," he said formally.

Just as formally, Fleur responded, "It 'as been my pleasure as well. Thank you for your lessons." She shook his proffered hand and tried to keep her face neutral despite the jolt of arousal that coursed through her. Bill held her hand a beat longer and Fleur new he felt it too. A tiny, tight smile crossed his features and then he turned and walked away.

Fleur was still watching him leave when she felt a light, tentative tap on her arm. She sighed quietly to herself and then followed Mr. Gardiner upstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

The Gringotts desk job was easy and boring. Fleur's job was to be the first person to meet with potential customers; to give them an overview of the security features of the bank, find out the size of their intended deposit, and convince them to leave their money there. It did not take much effort; male customers were willing to tell her anything she wanted to know and the women were just defensive enough to share as well.

The worst part was having to work with the Goblins. They were closed off, distrustful of anyone who was not their kind, and often rather mean. They didn't seem to like or respect wizards, and part-Veela wizards were no better. It went without saying that they were immune to her magic.

After a week, Fleur began plotting how to get back to the curse breaking department. She had barely seen Bill other than from afar since she moved. And while she had rather hoped he would want to keep up their daily lunches, he had not come up to see her and Fleur refused to make the first request.

And then, a week before Christmas, she ran into Anabelle coming into work early.

"Oh Fleur, did you hear the awful news?

"I don't 'ear any news, working with 'ze goblins. What is it?"

"It's Bill Weasley's father, he was bitten by a giant snake at the Ministry of Magic! He was terribly hurt, is in St. Mungos now and I hear they can't stop the bleeding. Bill has been there for two days trying to figure out if the bites were cursed."

Fleur was confused. "I thought 'eez father worked for 'ze Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Where did 'e find a giant snake?"

Anabelle was more animated than Fleur had ever seen her. "That's the odd thing, No one seems to know where the snake came from or what Mr. Weasely was doing at the Ministry in the middle of the night. He was down on a lower floor, apparently. I've heard a few rumors, but most people are being tight-lipped. I asked Miriam what she knew, and she wouldn't say anything."

Fleur had a feeling she knew more than most what could have brought Mr. Weasley to the Ministry. Bill had never hid his disdain for the current Ministry Administration from her, nor his pride at the fact that his pure-blood family was considered "blood traitors" among those who cared about such things. And the Goblins, arrogant as they were, often talked in front of Fleur as if she was too stupid to understand anything they might say. There were things she was keeping to herself for now, things she had heard that she suspected might be useful to Bill and his family in the future.

Possibly, that future was now. She turned to Anabelle. "I assume Bill will not be coming into work, non?"

Anabelle frowned. "No, not right now. And I'm supposed to take a parcel of documents to him at his flat. Apparently they are important and he doesn't trust an owl. But I have to study for our upcoming exam and I really don't have the time." She looked hopefully at Fleur. "Do you think you could do it instead? You don't have to take the curse breaking exam, right?"

Fleur feigned nonchalance she did not feel. "Non, I do not 'ave to take 'ze exam. I suppose I 'ave the time to drop off 'ze package, if 'ze goblins will let me leave. Where does Bill live?"

An hour later, Fleur left Gringotts with a parcel Miriam gave her, charmed so that no one but Bill could read the contents and shrunk to fit into the pocket of her robes. In the end, she hadn't even bothered telling the Goblins she was leaving; they didn't tend to question her work hours anyway. Miriam had been rather circumspect about the documents she handed Fleur, stressing how important it was that she hand them to Bill directly at the precise hour he had said he would be at home, and making sure Fleur did not tell anyone she saw about the delivery. She gave Fleur a last piercing look before sending her on her way and Fleur had the feeling that the older woman wanted to say something. "Tell Bill to give his family my love," she said finally.

Bill lived in Muggle London, not far from the Leaky Cauldron. The street was lively with ordinary shops, pubs, and small residential buildings. Nothing fancy, but comfortable. On a whim, Fleur stopped at a cozy-looking café on the corner and purchased a takeaway meal, explaining to the proprietor that it was for a "friend whose father had suddenly taken ill and so wasn't home to cook for himself."

"Is that Bill you are buying for?" The café owner was thoroughly Muggle and as comfy looking as a hug. "I'd heard his father was in hospital – heart attack, wasn't it?"

Fleur was not actually sure what a heart attack was, but she nodded. "'E is doing better, I 'eard," she said.

The owner nodded. "Good to hear. Bill is a nice young man. Too wrapped up in his work though." She looked Fleur up and down. "I'm glad to see someone is making sure he eats. He needs some taking care of."

Fleur refrained from saying she couldn't think of anyone less likely to need "taking care of" than Bill Weasley. She thanked the proprietor and followed her directions to a six-flat building sandwiched between a pub called The Crown and a flower shop. After carefully looking around, Fleur pointed her sleeve-clad wand at the front door and whispered "Alohamora". It opened with a soft click and Fleur pushed her way inside. On the third floor landing, Fleur knocked firmly on Bill's door. At first, there was only silence, mingled with the muffled sounds of the street below. Briefly wondering if Miriam had forgotten to give her a password or special knock, Fluer rapped on the door again, this time simultaneously calling out to him. "Bill? I 'ave your . . . work from 'ze office." She did not bother identifying herself.

This time, the door swung open almost immediately. "Come in, quickly," Bill said in a low voice. She had no sooner crossed the threshold that he was closing the door behind her and pointing his wand to set a number of wards.

Bill looked exhausted. There was several days of dark stubble on his chin and deep circles under his eyes. He beckoned her into the flat and Fleur looked around as she walked over to his kitchen table and deposited the takeaway bag. The space was utilitarian but neat, with a number of framed music posters and photographs of Egypt on the walls and a deep crimson rug in front of the sofa. A knitted blanket in Gryffindor colors lay folded on a comfy looking chair next to a table piled high with books.

"Thank you for coming," Bill said. He didn't sound at all surprised to see her. "I assume Miriam gave you what I need?" By the lack of emotion in his voice, he could have been talking to someone at the owl post.

Fleur nodded and took the parcel out of her pocket. "'Ow is your Papa?" she asked. Although it had been less than two weeks since she had seen him, Bill's demeanor made the distance feel much longer.

"He is going to be okay, thank the stars," said Bill. "He was really, really lucky. If Harry . . ." he stopped abruptly, as if he had said too much.

Fleur nodded. "Harry alerted everyone about 'ze attack," she said. "I 'ear the Goblins talking."

Bill looked sharply at her. "You do? What do they say?"

"Zey say at first that 'ze security at 'ze Ministry is not as good as Gringotts." Fleur paused. As certain as she felt of Bill's allegiances, there were things that needed to be said. "Before I tell you more, I need to . . . to . . .make sure . . ."

Bill looked chagrined. "Of course. I should have known better. It's just been such a horrible few days, and I haven't slept or eaten, and . . . I should have known better." He gestured to his sofa. "Come sit down. Can I get you something to drink? I'm afraid I don't have much food here right now."

Fleur sat, shaking her head. "I am fine," she said. "I brought you something for dinner, 'eef you are 'ungry. 'Zat Mrs. Codswell on 'ze corner said it was your favorite."

Bill looked surprised. "You brought me Shepherd's Pie? I smelled it but I assumed it was my neighbors cooking." He smiled at her, a real smile. "Thank you. The food at St. Mungos is terrible."

Fleur shrugged. "It is nothing."

"It is very thoughtful," he said. "And I will enjoy it." He took a breath and Fleur felt his mood shift. He glanced at his door and Fleur suspected he was confirming the strength of the wards he had set.

"We have never actually talked," he began. "About the Ministry today, and the rumors, and . . . what you believe. Or who you believe."

"Or what _you_ believe," responded Fleur. She raised her eyebrows.

"Touche," said Bill with a smile. "I actually think you do know, but I should say it anyway. My family are proudly traitors to our pure blood status and staunchly against Voldemort and anyone who would support him. We believe everything Harry told us after he came out of the maze last June and we will support him, and Dumbledore to the end. We . . . " Bill must have thought better about whatever he was going to say next because he shut his mouth and looked at Fleur. "Your turn."

Fleur nodded. "I, and my family, we feel 'ze same way. Of course, living in France, we don't 'ave the problems with Voldemort that you do, but my great-aunt was killed by Gindelwald, with one of her children, my Maman's cousin Louis. We despise anything dark. And, I was in 'zat maze. I did not see Voldemort, but I felt 'is evil. I will do anything to 'elp fight him."

Bill was nodding while she spoke. "I am sorry about your family's losses," he said. "But it is good to know we are on the same side." He paused for a second. "There is something else I should tell you. About the people who are fighting, quietly, against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And then you can tell me about the Goblins."

Fleur had never heard of the Order of the Phoenix, but she promised to keep her ears open for any mention of it. She told Bill all that she had heard about the Goblins, that there were rumblings of support for Voldemort among them, and that they were getting louder.

"I think they will end up siding with whoever offers them more," said Bill thoughtfully. "They have been treated badly for a long time by Wizards – wand holders, they call us. And if the Death Eaters offer them more rights, I think we could have a problem."

Fleur nodded. "Zey are nasty to work with, but I know 'ze wizards don't treat them well either. I will let you know whatever I hear."

"That will be very helpful," said Bill. He gave her a small smirk. "If you have anything you need to tell me, any news, come down and invite me to lunch. It will be the most secure way of communicating."

Fleur raised her eyebrows back at him. "You don't have to wait until I have news to go to lunch with me. I may not be working with 'ze curse breakers now, but I still have to eat."

Bill laughed. "It's a deal. When I am back in the office, we will go to lunch." He held out his hand. "Now, I think you have some documents for me?"

Fleur was gratified that Bill did not try to hide the contents of the parcel from her. Looking more relaxed than he had since she arrived, Bill expanded the papers – a number of sets of plans of the layout of the Ministry – and began explaining how they were updated information the Order needed to try to find certain information, and keep other information from falling into the wrong hands. He did not elaborate on what that information might be, and Fleur did not ask; he would tell her if she ever needed to know.

When she stood up to leave, Bill grabbed both of her hands and Fleur felt the familiar jolt that seemed to course through her whenever they touched. "Thank you, for everything," he said sincerely. "For the food, and bringing me the plans, and the information about the Goblins, and for . . . well, thank you."

"However I can be of help," said Fleur. On a whim, she took a chance and reached up to brush her cheeks against his, left, and then right, in the French manner. In response, he tightened his grip on her for a second and she heard his breath hitch. A second later he released her.

"Au revoir, Mademoiselle," he said formally, giving her a little bow.

Fleur smiled. "Au revoir, Monsieur Weasley."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Finally, here is the first of what I hope are several "money chapters." This is the start of why I began this story in the first place. Things will hopefully keep moving from here, running more or less parallel to canon, but veering off in the details when the story demands it. Enjoy and review!

According to Anabelle, Bill was not going to come back to work until after the new year. His father was much improved, but there was apparently a lot of "follow up work" to be done in the aftermath of his injury. Anabelle sounded fascinated to think what such work might be, but Fleur feigned ignorance and disinterest at the issue. Now that she had a little better idea what Mr. Weasley may have been doing, she was even more cautious and closed off with the others at the Bank.

The new customers who visited the bank in January all seemed to share the trait of being difficult. Whether they were depressed that the holidays had ended or upset about how much money they had spent on gifts, Fleur was being called upon to use Veela magic to calm frayed tempers more than usual.

Today she was meeting with three brothers whose parents had just died within hours of each other, leaving the men with a moderate inheritance. They were suspicious and crude, and could not agree whether to pool all of the money in a single vault or spend the extra funds for a separate one for each.

"Unless you intend to spend all the money together, it might be better to 'ave a separate vault for each of you," Fleur said patiently, for the third time.

"What if we wanted to buy something for you, I bet you would like a gift. Maybe something silky and short?" The biggest of the brothers leered at her and Fleur bit back a sharp retort. She was used to this; knew how to handle boorish men, but it got tiring.

"No 'zank you," said Fleur stiffly. She pushed a magical contract across the desk. "Now, if you would like to look at these terms. . ."

"I'd like to look at your terms," said another brother. He stood up and walked over to stand behind Fleur, leaning over her chair in a show of looking at the contract. "Hmmm," he remarked idly. "These terms are a little tight." He rested his hand on Fleur's back and leaned in even further.

Not for the first time, Fleur wished she had enough Veela blood to transform. Her brand of magic was much better at attracting men than repelling them, and right now, attracting these men was the last thing she wanted to do. She carefully wiggled away from the hand and pulled out a second piece of parchment, determined to keep the meeting professional. Mr. Gardiner had made it quite clear that, except for in the most unusual circumstances, the customer was always right.

"'Eef you would please sit back down, I can compare the terms for a single vault, with the terms for separate, smaller vaults."

The man ignored her, leaning in even closer. "Hey, Graham, come look at these terms, tell me what you think." The one called Graham, the big one, walked over to Fleur's other side and leaned over the desk as well. "I think we can get much better terms than these, don't you?" He called to the third, youngest, brother. "Ryder, what do you think?"

" I think her robes are too long," said Ryder. Apparently he was the most direct. "I think that if she wants us to leave our money in this bank, she needs to dress more appropriately. He stared at her, an Fleur suddenly felt a hand on her thigh. She started; neither of the men on either side of her were touching her legs. Ryder must have cast a spell to project his sense of touch.

Fleur cursed to herself for missing it. She had been too focused on the two men next to her to consider the third, and now she could feel his hand working its way up her leg and burrowing under her robes. Graham's hand was on her back again and the third was reaching for the wand Fleur kept on her desk, asking in a suggestive tone "so, what kind of core do you have?"

That was it. Fleur lunged for her wand, jerking out of the man's hand and shooting a strong Stinging Hex at Ryder, who yelped and grabbed at his crotch, when suddenly, a deeper voice cast a Stupefy, and the men on either side of her were blown backwards into the wall.

Bill was standing in the doorway, looking angrier than Fleur had ever seen him. "What the hell?" he snapped. "Is this what Gringotts means by 'customer relations?'"

Fleur stood up, smoothing down her robes and trying to rid herself of the feeling of a strange hand on her thigh. "I could handle them," she said to Bill. "I 'ave had worse."

"Bill rubbed at his eyes. "I don't think I want to know," he said.

The three brothers had recovered and now were huddling together, staring malevolently at Bill. He turned to them with a warning in his eyes. "I suggest you find a new place to keep your money," he said, deadly calm. "And if you even think about her, ever again, I can assure you that your bits are going to feel much more than a sting."

Muttering to themselves, the brothers gave Bill a wide berth as they sidled out the door.

Fleur took a deep breath and braced herself, expecting to hear Bill's admonishment of her own behavior next. She opened her mouth to cut him off before he started, her explanation that no, she had not been actively using her magic, on her lips.

Instead, a feather light touch lifted her chin. Blue eyes, full of concern, looked into her own gray ones. "Did they hurt you?" he asked gently.

Fleur shivered. She shook her head slightly, not wanting to lose contact with his hand. "Only my pride, I 'zink," she said softly.

"You said you've had worse. Is that what you've been dealing with, since you moved up here?"

Fleur shrugged. "Sometimes, yes. Only a few are 'zat blatant." She flashed her eyes at him. "And, I could 'ave taken care of 'zem myself. You didn't need to 'elp."

Bill chuckled. "Oh, I have no doubt. That stinging hex to the crotch was worthy of my sister Ginny." He turned serious. "But you shouldn't have to deal with those sorts of men. I don't care how much the bank needs their business."

"But how much do you need my information?" Fleur stepped closer and lowered her voice. "If I don't work here, I won't hear 'ze news."

"And have you?" Bill asked quietly.

Fleur nodded. "Just 'zis morning, 'ze Goblins were talking about Azkaban. And how things could be better, soon."

Bill's mouth tightened. "We were worried about that." He didn't say more, but looked swiftly down at her. "I want you to . . . I mean, I would like you to continue to work here, if you do not mind. But I think you need to be back with the curse breakers too. I will speak to Reg."

"You want me back with 'ze curse breakers?" Fleur was sure Bill heard the hitch in her voice.

His lips twitched. "Yes," he said simply. "I think you have more to learn."

Fleur nodded. "I do too."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Splitting her time between the Goblins and Bill turned out to be a good decision. The Goblins were getting more and more agitated about something that was apparently coming, talking amongst themselves, organizing crews to visit some of the deepest and best-guarded vaults at the bank, reading the Daily Prophet with feverish intensity. Fleur related all of this to Bill during on of their lunches; they had branched out beyond the café across the street and were now eating at the Muggle pub across from Bill's own flat. It was easier to talk privately there, Bill said when he suggested it.

Now his face was grave. "The Dementors are restless," he said. Dumbledore has been worried about them siding with Voldemort."

"But so many don't even believe Voldemort is back," said Fleur. "'Ow can 'ze Dementors take 'ze risk?"

"I'm sure they know more than the ordinary wizards. And if they are promised things, like the Goblins, then we are all in big trouble indeed." He sighed. "Enough bad news. Tell me about Miriam's lecture on caves. I think I'm going to have a site next week to visit." His voice took on a teasing tone. "I heard you got through her obstacle course of mock curses faster than anyone except Archie."

Fleur shrugged. "It was a lot like practicing for 'ze Tri-Wizard tournament," she said. "'Ze curses were different, but 'zey were easy to learn."

"Maybe you should have been a formal trainee in our program," he said with a smirk. "We have one now that I don't think could charm her way out of a cursed paper bag."

Fleur nodded. "Anabelle, yes. But she is quite aware of your, how do you say it, 'goings and comings?'" She stammered over the words, knowing her grasp of English idioms still wasn't very good.

For some reason, Bill smirked. "My goings, yes. I haven't had many chances for comings lately, however." He sighed. "There is always one, in every trainee class." His eyes glanced at her. "I guess I don't have to explain unwanted attention to you, do I?"

Fleur wasn't exactly sure everything Bill was saying, but she nodded. "It is common, for a Veela," she said. "Which is why I always say what I think."

"I guess that's why I like talking to you," Bill said. "No pretenses." Fleur didn't answer and the silence between them grew heavy until Bill looked at his watch. "Shite, it's later than I thought. Miriam is going to kill me." He threw a couple of Galleons on the table. "My treat today. It's probably our last lunch for a while. Things are about to get very busy downstairs; it looks like we are going to be going out into the field soon." He gave Fleur a quick smile. "I'm sure I'll see you soon. Don't let the Goblins wear you down." He jumped up and was out the door before Fleur could say another word.

It took Fleur a minute or two to follow him. She may not have pretenses, but the _feelings_ were something else entirely.

HPHPHPHPHP

Bill was right; Fleur saw him only from afar over the next week. She could tell by the sameness of his clothing and the length of his stubble that he wasn't even getting home every night to sleep. Miriam too, and a couple of the other breakers Fleur did not know as well were working nearly around the clock. On what, Fleur was not sure.

It was very late indeed the night Fleur made her way down to the curse breaking area. Nearly all parts of the bank were dark, but Fleur had stayed late to catch up on paperwork, smiling to herself as she imagined what Bill might say at the sight of the piles on her desk. A few of the Goblins had stayed late as well, and now Fleur knew that she had to talk to Bill. Thinking fast, she ran first to the Bank's kitchens, and then to the lifts.

As expected, his work area was still lit, although only he, Miriam, and two other breakers were there. Fleur stopped at the entrance to the room, trying to figure out how to get his attention.

She didn't need to; almost the second she appeared, Bill looked up, a surprised smile crossing his face. "Fleur, what are you doing here?" Fleur heard the pleasure in his voice and she relaxed. The next second, Bill frowned. "Is everything, okay? It's late? What's wrong? Did one of the Goblins do something to you?" He was crossing rapidly towards her as he spoke, looking her up and down as if checking for injuries.

Fleur shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she replied. "I 'ad to work late and I thought maybe you would like some coffee?" She held out the cup she had just made.

Bill took it from her gratefully, and then gave the cup a sharp look. "Thank you," he said slowly. "But I like milk in my coffee and I think we are out. Let me get some in the upstairs kitchen and then I can walk you out."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Bill turned towards her. "Brilliant trick, writing me a message on the cup. I assume no one else could see it?"

"Of course not," said Fleur. "Listen, Bill, I hear 'ze Goblins talking. They are preparing and cleaning a number of the oldest vaults. Ones that have not been used in many years. I 'ear them saying that soon, their owners might be coming back." She gave Bill a significant look. "One of the vaults belongs to a family called 'Lestrange.'"

Bill swore. "Looks like Azkaban is about to give up some of its most infamous prisoners," he said tersely. "I have to warn the Order." They had reached the front of the bank. "Can you get home from here?"

Fleur nodded and pointed down Diagon Alley. "My flat is just there, see?"

Bill waved distractedly and mumbled "good;" he was already moving his wand in the complicated pattern Fleur recognized for a talking Patronus. She sighed and pushed open the door.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur wasn't sure how much her news to Bill made a difference to the Order; by the following morning it was all over the Daily Prophet that a number of Voldemort's former followers had escaped the prison. Tensions at the bank were definitely running high; the workers half expected Bellatrix Lestrange herself to walk through the door and demand her gold. But after a couple of days of no changes, things returned to normal.

Fleur was in her flat one evening when a glowing silver cheetah dropped onto the floor beside her. A second later, it spoke with Bill's voice.

 _Fleur! I expect you are . . . I mean, I hope you are alone when you get this. If not, you are going to hear music instead. But I hope you hear me. We found some promising treasure sites! The information you gave me last week is related. We think the treasure once belonged to . . . well, I will tell you when I see you. I want you to come with me when I break the curse. Reg said it's okay; we are short-handed right now because the trainees are all out on assignment with Miriam and Lucas. So meet me tomorrow at the bank at 5 a.m. if you want to come. If you don't show, I'll know you aren't interested. And, umm, wear a light layer of clothing under your robes. It's likely going to be very hot, where we are going. Hope to see you tomorrow!_

The Patronus faded away, but for long minutes, Fleur could not stop staring at the spot it had been.

The next morning, she was in front of Gringotts before 5 a.m. They may have been going somewhere warm, but pre-dawn London was chilly, and she shivered in her traveling cloak.

Bill arrived minutes later. She thought she might have imagined his pleased smile at her appearance but she wasn't sure. He was entirely professional as he explained that he was going to Apparate them closer to the cursed site before giving her more instructions. "Three jumps," he said. "Okay?"

Fleur nodded and took his arm as he turned on the spot.

A few minutes later they were standing on a rocky hill covered with scrub vegetation. The inky sky was just beginning to lighten in the east and Fleur could hear the crash of waves nearby. It was much warmer than Britain. "Turkey," said Bill by way of explanation. He pointed at a higher hill on the horizon.

"We are going there," he said. At the base is a cave that likely contains a curse protecting the treasure. A number of ancient British wizarding families hid their fortunes here when Britain ruled the area. We want to reclaim it before . . . someone else does." He stopped, grasping Fleur lightly on her upper arms and turning her so he could look into her face.

"I cannot take you side-along, not to the curse site," he said. "I will describe exactly where you need to go, but you will need to Apparate alone." He looked at her, making sure she understood. Fleur nodded and then Bill continued. "I am going to go first. You must count to 10 and then follow, but I am going to have you arrive outside the site zone. As soon as you see me and I motion it is safe, walk in a straight line to me." He peered into her eyes again. "If you are scared, or don't think you can follow my directions exactly, now is the time to let me know. There is no shame in deciding that curse breaking is not for you. But if you start, and then decide halfway through that you've had enough, it could be deadly for both of us."

Fleur took a deep breath and nodded again. "I understand," she said. "I am ready."

Five minutes and a quick Apparation later, Bill and Fleur stood together at the mouth of a cave whose entrance was half buried by boulders. Hot steam was spewing out of the entrance and the air smelled both sulfurous and sweet.

"The sulfur is from the hot springs in the area," said Bill. He was already shrugging out of his robes to reveal a pair of frayed khaki trousers that had been cut off above the knee and yet another concert t-shirt. "The sweet is the curse."

Fleur pulled off her own robes and then the sweatshirt she had been wearing underneath. She felt Bill's eyes travel down her body; taking in the fitted Beauxbaton tank top and cropped track pants she wore. "That should . . . keep you cool," he said thickly. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Okay, follow close behind me. Wand out."

The first room in the cave was filled with boulders. They climbed over them in near silence, Bill offering his hand whenever the path was particularly rough. Fleur accepted the help every time.

He stopped them at the entrance to the second cavern. "Yes, here it is," he said with satisfaction. The sweet smell was much stronger, the sticky air seemed saturated with it. A bubbling pool surrounded by a narrow rocky pathway took up most of the space; on the far side of the room, Fleur could see a number of large black rocks that glowed almost purple.

"We will have to walk single-file," said Bill softly, pointing at the path. "I need to get close enough to set the spells to break the curse, but I'm not sure how far we will be able to go. Keep your wand out and don't touch the hot spring."

Slowly, they started walking. Within a minute, the heat and silence enveloped them. Fleur could hear Bill muttering spells in front of her as he walked, she tried to make her own steps as quiet as possible. Once, he stopped, putting his arm out to block her way forward, a finger on his lips. They stood frozen for almost a minute, waiting for something Fleur could not see. She was only aware of the look of intense concentration on Bill's face, and the quiet pulse of energy where his arm still crossed her chest to hold her back.

Halfway around the cavern, Bill stumbled. Fleur grabbed him by the waist and pulled him back with enough force to push him into the wall of the cave. He hit the side with a grunt, rubbing his hip.

"Oooh, I am so sorry," Fleur whispered.

"Don't be," said Bill. "I would not have wanted to take a swim in that water today."

Her arm was still around his waist and she felt him lean into her the tiniest bit. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead, turned and faced the path again. It ended suddenly twenty yards later, before they had reached the black rocks. They bubbling dark water that lay between them and the treasure looked sinister and Fleur wasn't sure what they were going to do next.

Bill was muttering again, pointing his wand first at the path at their feet and then at the water, tracing an arc that briefly covered the purple/black boulders with a golden glow. "Close enough," Fleur heard him say. He looked at her. "I'm going to start breaking from here. The spells should carry just fine. Once the curse is broken I'll need you to help me cast a lifting spell; I can't do it myself from this far away."

Fleur nodded in understanding and watched as Bill lifted his wand again.

The thought came unbidden, she couldn't avoid it; Bill, concentrating all his energy on breaking the curse, was undeniably sexy. A lock of dark red hair had fallen out of his ponytail, and he pushed it roughly behind his ear as he concentrated. The combinations he was drawing in the air with his wand were tight and controlled, every muscle taut with the effort. Fleur understood only half of the words he spoke in the complicated spell and the air around them shimmered and cracked with the energy he was creating. She wondered for a brief second what it would feel like to have all of Bill's concentration and energy focused with that intensity on her.

The first explosion came from the left, and hit the cavern wall just above them.

Fleur's shield was up so quickly that she thought for a second the attack may have been just noise; then the rocks and dust rained down, smacking the top of the spell and falling harmlessly around them.

"What the fuck?" Bill's voice was tense and the energy he had been controlling looked fractured and dark, but his wand had barely wavered. He finished whatever spell he had been in the midst of and lowered his arm, turning to look first at the shield that surrounded them and then at Fleur. He let out a breath. "That's twice you've save my arse today."

"Don't make it a third," said Fleur. "Can I take down the shield?"

Bill looked around and shot some sparks at the black rocks. Almost immediately another missile shot at them from the darkness. Fleur moved her shield to stop the attack and the rocks fell harmlessly way.

"Damn," said Bill. "Secondary protection curse." He sighed for a second, and then looked at her.

"You have some of the best reflexes I've seen in, well, anyone," he said. "How do you feel about protecting me from getting pummeled while I finish breaking the main curse? The cavern is too unstable to stop in the middle."

"Of course," said Fleur. "Do you think the attacks will all come from 'zere?" She pointed to the space in the darkness in front of Bill.

He nodded. "Probably. Secondary curses usually rely on brute force and maximum physical damage; they tend to be straightforward. But keep your eyes open anyway."

Fleur nodded. "'Zen I should stand in front of you," she said. "So I can best see and protect you while you work."

"Absolutely not," said Bill immediately. "I won't put you in direct danger like that."

"And why not?" demanded Fleur. "You need me to protect you so that you can break 'ze curse. And if you can't, or you get hurt, then we both die, non?" When he didn't answer, Fleur huffed. "I thought so. And I bet you would let any other curse breaker stand in front of you, if that is where they needed to be."

Bill's mouth twitched. "Not Anabelle," he said. He angled his body slightly so that she could trade places with him on the narrow path. But there was almost no space to place her feet as she slipped by him. Instead, Bill wrapped his arms around her and turned on the spot so that she was now in front of him instead of behind. Her feet touched gravel but Bill continued to circle her waist. Fleur could feel him breathing against her back and she tried to slow her own breaths to match his. Instead, her foot turned on a piece of rock and she took an involuntary step backwards. Bill's arms immediately tightened their hold.

"Careful," he breathed.

It felt like all the air had gone out of the cavern. Fleur forced herself to stare at the dark rocks in the front of her vision, but she made no move to step away from Bill. Behind her, he was completely still as well.

A creaking sound above them broke the tension; Fleur put up another shield and Bill raised his wand and again began the long incantations to break the curse.

Thirty minutes later, the black boulders in front of them shuddered and sank into the muck and a soft golden glow rose up instead. "Got it," Bill. They were the first words either of them had said, other than spells, since Fleur had begun shielding him. She slowly lowered her arm, exhausted from the effort.

"Almost done and then you can rest," said Bill. "All that is left is to transport the treasure back to Gringotts. Do you remember the spell?"

Fleur knew what he asking. She nodded, not surprised when Bill moved behind her to put his hand on top of hers as she held her wand out. He whispered the spell and slowly turned her wrist, and Fleur watched as the glowing treasure rose up in front of them and winked out of sight.

"You were absolutely brilliant," Bill murmured. He was still holding her hand and now he rotated her gently so that she faced him.

"I 'ad the best teacher."

Bill nodded his head in acquiescence. "But I realize, there is one lesson I forgot to teach you."

He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up towards him. For a long moment, he owned her with his eyes before lowering his lips to hers. He kissed her lightly on the lips and across her jaw, and then moved one hand to the back of her head and pulled her closer to him with a groan of relief. His lips parted and Fleur tasted him, sweet and sweat and power mingled on her tongue.

And Fleur melted into him, a combination of exhaustion and the sheer intensity of the moment making her legs feel like jelly. Bill chuckled and leaned back against the rough stone wall, pulling her with him. Fleur let herself collapse against his chest, feeling the long planes of his body against hers. He was hard; she could feel him, and she appreciated that he didn't try to hide it. She put her hand flat on his chest and felt his heart beating under her fingers. He moved his hand to cover hers and when she stretched up to kiss his neck he buried his head in her shoulder. They didn't speak for long minutes.


	7. Chapter 7

Three days after the cave, and Fleur could only think about Bill's lips. She knew now that they were warm, just the tiniest bit rough, and that they fit around hers as if they had been designed that way. They were, she thought, the most expressive part of his face; even more than his eyes. And they fell open easily when she stretched up to kiss him.

Fleur had not kissed Bill since the cave. She wanted to, very much, which was why she had not sought him out, even for lunch. It felt . . . not exactly wrong, but unfamiliar, to want something so much from a man. Even though she had followed him halfway across Europe based on nothing more than a couple of minutes of attraction, Fleur hadn't really considered Bill to be any different from the other boys and men she had kissed over the years. She had always been able to walk away, before.

She really, really wanted to kiss him again. In the cave, he had groaned against her hair when she had raised up on her toes to press into his arousal, and he had lifted her up to wrap her legs around his waist and held her there, the position making it a simple thing to fist her hands in his hair when he deepened the kiss. She had lost all track of time and place, and when he finally lowered her back down to stand in front of him, she had felt a little drunk.

But it had been three days of not kissing Bill since then and Fleur was slowly going crazy.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

 _What the hell was wrong with him?_

Bill shook his head for the third time, trying to focus on the glowing figures on the map in front of him. For the first time, they had a real, solid lead on the location of treasure believed hidden by wizard pirates off the coast of Britain nearly 500 years ago. Finding it, and then trying to predict the ancient curses the pirates had used to protect it required all of Bill's concentration and skill.

He could not stop thinking about kissing Fleur. A dozen times already, he'd had to stop himself from rushing up to her office and bending her over her desk, Goblins-be-damned. No witch had ever gotten under his skin like this, which is why he was using all his willpower not to seek her out. But he suspected his willpower would not last much longer.

HPHPHPHPHP

Fleur huffed, throwing down reports the Goblins demanded she complete every week on her customer contacts. It was no good, the paperwork simply wasn't going to get done today. She was hungry. And, more importantly, she was _hungry._ Telling herself that she was merely seeking out her friend Bill to see if he wanted a bit of lunch, Fleur marched down to the curse breakers' area. She strode into the work area without pausing, stopping only when a voice interrupted her.

"He isn't here." Miriam was looking at her shrewdly.

Fleur looked at the older woman. "Do you know where 'e is? I . . . I wanted to ask 'im a question."

Miriam's lips twitched. "I believe he went upstairs. Something about asking a co-worker to lunch."

Fleur swallowed, the sudden heat between her legs making it hard to respond. She forced herself to speak carefully.

"Ahh, I see. I will, see him later then, I suppose. Please tell him I stopped by."

Miriam nodded. "Will do, my dear."

 _Bill must have taken the lift up while I walked,_ Fleur thought. _Would he take the lift back down too? No one upstairs knows where I went. Maybe he just left for lunch on his own._

Fleur was deep in thought, walking towards the broad stone stairway that led to the bank's main lobby, when someone grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Practicing how to walk without looking where you are going?" Bill sounded amused; another step or two and Fleur would have run right into him. As it was, he standing so close that she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye.

"I was thinking about my reports for 'ze Goblins," she answered with all the dignity she could muster.

Bill laughed out loud. "Paperwork puts me in a trance too. But forget about it for now. Let's go to lunch."

He was as friendly and casual as ever; it was as if the cave hadn't even happened. Fleur nodded to herself, despite what her body may be saying to her, Bill was just another man with whom she'd had _le dalliance._ The attraction would fade, eventually.

Bill kept his hand on her arm and Fleur realized he was steering her towards the back stairwell that led straight out to the street; it was used almost exclusively by the curse breakers and the few others who had offices in the lower bowels of the Bank. He shouldered open the door and kicked it shut behind them; the noise and bustle from the corridor behind them disappearing.

"Are you hungry?" Bill had let go of her arm, but was making no move to climb the stairs.

"I am," Fleur nodded. She took a step up and then turned to face him so that their eyes were almost level. "What about you?"

Bill's voice was low as he answered. "I can think of a few things I'm in the mood for." He stepped closer and trailed his hands down her sides. She shivered, thankful she had not bothered to fasten her traveling cloak, and Bill made a sound of satisfaction. "Definitely hungry," he murmured. He cradled the back of her head in his palm and pushed her against the wall of the stairwell before kissing her deeply.

Fleur's entire body was tingling. She reached around Bill's back to pull his shirt out of his trousers and tickled her fingers up his back. He hissed and pressed closer. Fleur pulled back from the kiss and looked him in the eye. "Someone could discover us any minute, non? One of your coworkers, maybe?"

"Oh god, yes," Bill groaned, lowering his mouth to hers again. He thrust insistently against her and Fleur let herself get carried away.

The bang of what could have been a slamming door upstairs echoed in the stairwell. Bill reluctantly pulled himself away, breathing heavily. Fleur caught sight of his arousal before he pulled his cloak closed around him. He caught her looking down and flushed a bit.

"Thank Merlin for robes," he said. He held out his arm. "Lunch?"

HPHPHPHPHPHP

The rain had started in earnest and Fleur was inwardly cursing her decision to walk to work instead of Apparate when an arm shot out of a side alley and swung her around until she was under a low awning.

Bill opened his traveling cloak and pulled her inside, wrapping it firmly about both of them before speaking. "You didn't check the weather before you left for work?"

Fleur raised her eyebrows at him. "I could ask you 'ze same thing."

Bill shrugged "I won't melt."

Fleur feigned annoyance and pushed her way out of the cloak. "Neither will I," she said with as much dignity she could muster, whirling away from his warmth. Unfortunately, she whirled out from under the awning and into a puddle, cold water splashing up across her entire lower body. Bill laughed out loud.

"I sure hope you don't melt," he said, drawing her close to him again. He dried her robes with a charm and gave her a quick kiss.

"I'm on my way to the Apothecary for ingredients for some special potions that are part of one of our next lessons," he said. "Why don't you walk with me?"

The Apothecary was dusty and dark, full of odd smells and towering shelves. The chemist stood behind a long counter from which he dispensed potion ingredients and more; the rest of the shop was dedicated to various objects designed to help cure any number of minor ills (headache head wraps, squeezing sprain splints), and, in a curtained room in the back, a number of plain-labeled boxes and packets promised all sorts of magical improvements in the bedroom.

Fleur waited while Bill engaged in an animated discussion with the chemist and watched as he wrapped up several small crystal phials of potion, one silvery gray, one black as night. More discussion, and the chemist pointed to the back of the store before turning away to help another customer

Bill took Fleur's hand. "The rest of what I need is in the back."

Fleur stopped walking. "In 'ze sex room?"

Bill's mouth twitched. "How do you know what's in the room?"

"Bill," said Fleur patiently. "I am French. I am part Veela. And every Apothecary I 'ave every been in has a room in the back devoted to, how do you say it, "le pleasure of 'ze flesh?"

Bill chuckled. "And how much time have you spent exploring those pleasures?" he asked. His voice was teasing, but Fleur could see his eyes wanted a serious answer.

Fleur spoke carefully. "I have had my share of fun, bien sur. But, not too much fun," she added hastily, as Bill's expression suddenly became more suggestive. "I have not done anything to require many of those products, and I do not intend to."

Bill raised his eyebrows. "Are you a virgin?" he asked, disbelief evident on his face.

Fleur drew herself up. "I am," she confirmed. "And I intend to stay that way."

Bill looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped. He tried again. "Does that mean . . . do you not want to do, anything else? Besides kissing, I mean." His eyes were hopeful and worried all at once.

Fleur couldn't help but smile. "I like more than kissing," she allowed. "I like more than kissing with you."

Bill's shoulders relaxed and he grabbed her hand again. "Well then, lets check out the back room for a little bit 'more than kissing,' n'est pas?"

His attempts at French got to Fleur every time, and she felt a jolt of heat course through her. "Mais ous, Monsieur," she replied, following him back.

They were later getting to work than Bill had intended; eventually he gave up searching and just conjured her some new buttons for her blouse.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It took only two words – _work late_ – on a tiny paper airplane than zoomed into her office to ruin Fleur's chances of getting anything accomplished the rest of the day. Relieved that her customer meetings had all been scheduled for the morning, she spent the late afternoon practicing her filing charm, taking unnecessary visits to view the progress on the new vaults being built, and engaging in meaningless conversations with the Goblins, who had no interest in talking to her anyway.

 _Work late._ Right now, she wasn't able to work at all.

The 5 pm bell seemed to take hours longer than usual to finish chiming. Fleur sat down at her desk and spread out several new customer contracts, so that when Mr. Gardiner stuck his head into her office to say goodbye, Fleur was the model of employee diligence.

"Working late tonight, Miss Delacour?"

Fleur pretended to be startled, and then relaxed her face into a bland smile. "Oh yes I am. I want to make sure the customer accounts are ready for deposit." In reality, the accounts had been ready for three days.

"Good, good," said Mr. Gardiner. "I'll see you on Monday."

Slowly, the voices and footsteps died away outside Fleur's office. The building lights went out and the auxiliary lamps came on, casting shadows onto her desk and heightening the silence. She sat at her desk and tried to control her trembles of anticipation. _What if he had been called away? Had he changed his mind? Maybe . . ._

"Are you busy? I don't mean to bother you."

Bill lounged casually in the doorway. His robes hung open and Fleur could see the casual shirt and trousers he always favored underneath.

She put down the quill she had been holding; it hadn't written a word in over an hour. "I'm not busy," she said quietly.

He strode into the office. "I have to review the new vaults the Goblins are building, to make sure the protective wards are being correctly set. You have access to them, don't you? So that you can give tours to prospective customers?"

Fleur knew that Bill was well aware that the protective wards would not be placed on the vaults until they had been assigned to new customers and filled with their gold. Right now, they were nothing more than roughly hewn rooms down a long, underground corridor. She stood up.

""Zat is a good idea," she said. "I 'av heard the Goblins arguing over the correct order of wards. I 'ave to give tours there Monday and I don't want any of my customers to get hurt."

Bill held out his hand. "Shall we go, then?"

Fleur put her hand in his and Bill pulled her in close. For a long minute, he simply stood with his arms wrapped around her. Fleur could feel him throbbing against the thin fabric of the skirt she wore and she couldn't hold back her moan.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

As he tugged Fleur's hand to pull her down the hall to the vaults, Bill mentally congratulated himself on considering their comfort first. Rough stone walls and cold floor were not the most appealing place to be with a member of the opposite sex, and Bill directed Fleur to vault 969, in which he had spent some time earlier in the day, on the pretense of "measuring the walls for charming later." Now it sported a number of large, mattress-sized cushions and several lamps. The dust had been banished and the stone floor gleamed. Fleur stopped at the entrance and looked at Bill in surprise.

"Did you do 'zis? Just so we could . . .?" Her voice trailed away and her smile grew wider.

Bill nodded, pleased with her reaction. "Stairwells and shops and broom closets are fine, but sometimes, a bloke gets tired of standing."

"Ahh, yes," replied Fleur. "Witches too."

It occurred to Bill that it might seem a bit too forward if he were to lie down on the mattress as soon as they entered the vault, so instead he pulled her down to sit next to him. They leaned against the pillows that lined the back wall until he lifted her up into his lap. "Better access this way," he mumbled against her lips. When he dared to lie all the way back a couple of minutes later, bringing her along with him to stretch out on top, she didn't protest.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

 _So Fleur intended to never have sex. Fine. It was her choice, to never have sex with anyone. Including him._

The ale was cold and the takeaway he had picked up at the pub was comforting. It had been a long week, and Bill was tired. There was no reason he shouldn't call it a night, get into bed, and try to catch up on his sleep. That was why he had turned down the invitation to go out drinking with a couple of his close mates, right?

He paced restlessly around his flat. Finding new and more daring places to kiss Fleur – and more than kiss her – had taken up more of his free time in the past weeks than he would care to admit. His work had been excellent and no one could question his dedication, but instead of going out with his mates, or listening to Quidditch, or doing any of the other dozen things that normally took up his time, he was kissing Fleur, or thinking of kissing Fleur, or figuring out how to get just a little farther under her robes than last time.

Until tonight, Bill had assumed – egotistically it turned out – that eventually he would find himself all the way under her robes, and their _dalliances,_ as she called them, would lead to, well, everything. It had been delicious torture, until now, kissing Fleur just a little more deeply, letting his hands wander a littler more wildly, thrusting against her a little more insistently, all the while confident that eventually, they would take the next steps and tumble into bed.

Fleur had put a swift end to that fantasy just an hour ago as he walked her home.

 _I do not intend to have 'ze sex. Not ever._

She had hinted as much before, but Bill had always thought she was joking or playing hard to get. But no . . .

 _Some Veela, 'zey have sex all 'ze time, with any man. It is . . . unbecoming, I think. I am not interested._

Bill suspected Fleur wasn't being completely honest with him; he pointed out that she hadn't exactly seemed disinterested in the cave, or the apothecary, or the stairwell, or any of the other places they had been meeting over the past months. In response, Fleur had tossed her hair dismissively.

 _Of course, I like some of 'ze physical things there are to do. I am not dead. But I do not need sex. It is too . . . I mean, I have not . . ._

She had stopped talking, refusing to finish whatever she had been about to say. At the door to her flat, she had lifted up on her toes and kissed him as deeply as ever and then turned around and walked inside, shutting the door behind her.

And Bill had walked home in a daze. Walked, and not Apparated, because Apparating with an erection was difficult and painful, and dammit, his body had apparently not gotten the message his brain was trying to understand.

Still pacing, Bill finished his ale and sighed. His arousal hadn't gone away and was getting rather uncomfortable. Bill didn't often have to take care of these things himself; he had never wanted for sexual partners when he needed them; even if they didn't stay long in his flat or in his memory.

But now, it seemed that if he wanted to keep kissing Fleur – and despite everything, he definitely did – he was going to have to manage the rest of it on his own.

Feeling a bit like he was back at Hogwarts, taking shower and after shower because Melody Arbuckle would only let him get to second base, Bill flopped down on his bed and undid his trousers. A few strokes and a tug and he was fully erect. He closed his eyes and closed his hand around his penis and remembered the way it had felt when Fleur had reached up to kiss him good night. He really, really liked the way she kissed him goodnight; she always rose up on her toes and he knew she enjoyed the feel of him pressing into her belly.

Remembering, he pressed instead into his hand. He had a dozen memories or more of thrusting against her, and of the sounds she made when he kissed her neck, and of the way she trailed her fingers across the skin on his chest. Being with her was hot and exciting and it had been more than enough for a long time. But it wasn't enough now.

In his mind, Fleur was back with him in the vault. Again, she slowly unbuttoned her shirt and let him stroke and fondle and suck on her breasts, making soft mews of pleasure as he explored. And again, she had stroked him through the cloth of his pants and let him tease his hand up under her skirt. But this time, that skirt, and then her knickers, had followed her shirt to the floor, and she stood in front of Bill, naked and ready. He lowered her softly to the ground, gritting his teeth in an attempt to go slow, but she arched up and grabbed his bum and pushed him fully into her with a groan.

On his bed, Bill groaned too as he came all over his hand and stomach. The release was necessary and, in its own way, satisfying; at least he would be able to continue to control himself around Fleur when he saw her next. But Merlin, he wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted a witch before. The fact that she was only willing to go some of the way undoubtedly added to his desire, but to be fair, Bill suspected he would want her no matter what.

 _Time to think about something else, anything else, Weasley._

Bill spoke the charms to clean up and rolled off his bed to get into his pajamas. His penis was now soft and Bill looked at it with a sigh. "Sorry," he muttered. Unbidden, an image of Fleur in her flat, getting into pajamas herself, rose into his mind. Despite his recent release, he felt himself twitch and he groaned. Once might be necessary, but as his sister Ginny always joked, twice was reserved for teenage boys and ugly warlocks.

Bill got into bed and turned off his lights. Curses. He needed to think about curses and treasure and how he was going to get more for the Bank. He was not going to think about a beautiful part Veela and how she drove him crazy with her lips and her tongue. He was not. He was definitely not.

Damn.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I wrote the last part of this chapter almost immediately after I started the story. It was a bitch to get right and I'm still not sure I did justice to what I wanted to convey. It's obviously not canon, but given that we barely hear about Bill and Fleur in most of OoTP and HBP (except for the very beginning and end), I don't think it changes anything too much. I envision this taking place around March or April of OoTP. Please read and review!

Fleur adjusted her robes before stepping out of the broom closet that was Bill's favorite spot for their workday trysts. He had snuck out minutes earlier, a mild _notice me not_ charm easing his departure. He had offered to do one for Fleur too, but she had declined. Veela demanded to be noticed, she had told him; all their sneaking around was unfamiliar to her. As far as she knew, no one but Miriam even had an inkling about what was going on; just last week another 'breaker named Wilson Arbuckle had invited her to dinner and Fleur was certain he would not have asked if he had known that she and Bill . . . had whatever it was they had.

Today he had sat down on an overturned wooden bucket and straddled her over his lap before opening her shirt. He had spent longer than usual at her chest, and it was only when he suddenly groaned and thrust hard against her that she realized he was close to climax. He came not a minute later - she felt the heat and wet between them – and Fleur was sure she heard him mutter _thank merlin_ under his breath. Her body was still tingling with pleasure when Bill had lifted off his lap to perform the necessary cleaning spells, kissed her quickly, and then left, mentioning that maybe they'd head back to the stairwell the next time.

Fleur's stomach rumbled, and she realized with surprise it was nearly 1pm. She had to meet with potential clients in five minutes and now she wasn't going to have time to eat lunch. Usually, they had time for a bit of fun first and then food and conversation afterwards. Not today, apparently. Sighing to herself, she carefully opened the door to the closet to get back to work.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

It was a relief to be able to work all afternoon without the distraction of arousal, and Bill spent a particularly productive four hours finalizing his preparations to visit a new treasure site and writing up notes for a lecture he was giving the trainees the following day. He was almost finished for the day when a conversation behind him interrupted his concentration.

"She hasn't turned me down yet. And damn, she's so hot, I'm happy to wait as long as it takes for her to decide."

"Hah, I don't blame you. When she does that thing where she shakes her hair, I practically want to propose marriage."

Bill lifted his head. Wilson was talking to Jeremiah Reynolds, a good friend of Bill's with whom he had gone through training. He kept listening.

"You know what they say about Veela, don't you? "

"I know a lot of things they say about Veela."

Bill couldn't stay quiet. "What do they say, Wilson?" he asked quietly.

Wilson didn't pick up on Bill's mood. He grinned as he answered, "I've heard you need to have as much fun as you can, as quickly as you can, before they get angry. But until then, it's the best sex you are ever going to have." He turned and gave Jeremiah a high five.

"Hey Bill, Wilson here asked out that Fleur Delacour, and she hasn't turned him down yet. What do you think his chances are?" Jeremiah said in a teasing tone. "I think he's too ugly for her, don't you?. Good thing his sister isn't so ugly, right? Didn't you date her at Hogwarts?"

Bill ignored the last comment. "I don't think Fleur cares as much about blokes' looks as she does about . . . other things.," he said. He had no idea where the response had come from, but he suspected it was true. Wilson raised his eyebrows at him and Bill struggled to explain. "It's just, she's so beautiful, on her own, I don't think anyone else compares. So she has to look for other things, in a man," he finished lamely. _What the hell?_

Jeremiah chuckled. "So let me guess, the best-looking curse breaker in London got turned down by Miss Delacour because she cares about things other than appearance, is that what happened?" He and Wilson high-fived again.

"Whatever it is she wants more than looks, please Bill, let me know," said Wilson. "I would love to take her out."

Bill bit back his response, that he knew many things Fleur liked, and gave his friends a tight smile. Ordinarily, he would not have hesitated to banter with them about his latest conquest, but something held him back now. Maybe it was that he didn't want to admit that Fleur wouldn't sleep with him, but aside from that, it didn't feel right to blurt out to his friends everything that he had Fleur had been up to over the last months. One thing he had learned was that Fleur was more private than she projected, and that she used her Veela magic and charms to mask that need for privacy.

Bill sighed. Usually by this time, his interest in a witch was waning, if not entirely gone. And Bill assumed that Fleur not wanting to sleep with him was evidence that things were not going to go much further. He definitely did not want to have her say it first. And even though she seemed as eager as ever to meet him in closets and stairwells, maybe it was time to ease up and try to let the attraction fade. Maybe if he treated this as if he had been with just another witch, it would be easier.

"You should definitely ask her again," he told Wilson. He held up one hand. "Although, I don't think that all Veela are as into sex as you've heard. Some of them just want a kiss or two, you know?" He waggled his eyebrows just a bit.

"No way, Bill, really? I had no idea!" Jeremiah looked impressed. "For how long? I can't believe you kept it a secret!"

Bill deflated a bit. These were his good friends, true, but he realized almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he really didn't want to talk to them about Fleur. He shrugged.

"It was nothing, really. Just a bit of fun when she first started here." He looked at Wilson. "Let me know how it goes, okay?"

HPHPHPHPHPHPH

"Constant Vigilance!"

Bill slammed a gold bar down on his work table and watched in satisfaction as the trainees jumped in surprise. Fleur seemed the least startled and Bill got the impression that she had been watching him more carefully than the cursed treasure she was practicing on. A silver snuff box floated in the air in front of her though, perfected surrounded by the golden protection orb the trainees were supposed to be conjuring.

But Corwyn LeMaster's spell had gone awry and slammed into a stack of maps and Anabelle had actually dropped the cursed Galleon she had been practicing on. It fell to the floor and emitted a weak orange cloud that rose up and began spreading out across the room. One by one the trainees began sneezing uncontrollably, eyes watering. Only Fleur seemed immune, and Bill could see that she had conjured a bubble-head charm and was calmly breathing as she watched the others sputtering and sneezing and diving for the anti-curse emergency showers in the corner of the room.

Bill waved his wand and the haze disappeared. When everyone was more or less intact again, he turned to the group.

"Well, that may not be how I intended to lead into the next part of the lesson, but I guess it's as good of a way as any. What I'm about to tell you all is extremely important, so please give me your absolute attention." He carefully looked each trainee in the eye to stress how important this was. When he got to Fleur, she stared back at him frankly, but unlike previous times, there was nothing suggestive in her gaze. Instead, she looked rather annoyed.

Bill shook his head. Maybe he was imagining things. He purposely had not come looking for her that morning, trying out his new resolution to leave her alone and see what happened. Of course, she might be a little put out at first, after all, finding a place for a quick snog had become almost habit. But he was sure she would get over it, if he could. He sighed. Assuming he could. In just the few seconds he had been thinking about Fleur, his penis had twitched insistently, as if asking him what had happened that morning.

 _Nothing. Nothing happened, and that is fine. It's better, actually. Because . . ._ Bill didn't really have an answer to his question but this wasn't the time to ruminate anyway. He picked up another silver snuff box similar to the one Fleur had been working on.

"Today we are going to talk about what to do if someone gets accidentally cursed." He watched in satisfaction as everyone sat up straighter. Fears about being cursed was the biggest thing any new curse breaker had to overcome, and trips to St. Mungo's were not as rare as he would have liked.

"If you are alone, the only thing to do is use your emergency Portkey to St. Mungo's as quickly as you can." He held up the dull pewter coin every curse breaker carried. "Keep it in your pocket; it is innocuous most of the time, but if you do get cursed, your skin will immediately activate it to transfer you to the hospital. However, Apparating or using a portkey while carrying an active curse is extremely, extremely dangerous and should only be undertaken if there are no other options. More than half the people who have tried it died." He stopped, letting that sink in. "And that only counts those who were able to get their hands into their pocket in the first place." Everyone was staring at him. Even Fleur's face was a mask of concentration, all annoyance gone. "That is why we never send 'breakers alone into the field."

He held up two tiny crystal phials. "You all learned about these at Miriam's lecture last week, correct?" The trainees nodded.

"But Fleur wasn't there, was she?" Anabelle spoke out to the room, seeming pleased to know something the rest did not.

Bill answered her slowly. "No, Fleur missed that lesson. But . . ."

"I can answer for myself," Fleur interrupted hotly. Bill looked sharply at her; he definitely wasn't imagining her anger now. He shrugged, silently asking her to continue.

"It 'eez true, I missed 'zat lesson," said Fleur, her French accept stronger than normal. "But Bill, 'e thought 'eet might be a good idea for me to learn anyway. 'E thought 'e could teach me things. And 'e did. But . . . but . . . 'ze lesson was too long and I did not get my lunch again. Not that 'e noticed. When 'e is done with a lesson, 'e is quite done." Fleur finished her speech and glared around the room, her gaze finally coming to rest on Bill.

Bill swallowed. _Oh Merlin, she always warned not to get her angry._ He wasn't sure that the others understood all of Fleur's innuendo, but they had to have some idea that they had . . . _Merlin._ Thanking the stars that Fleur was not actually a trainee and thus, not completely off-limits, Bill decided to just ignore her outburst and continue the lesson.

"Right. Well, ummm." _This was going to be harder than he thought._ He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts, then began again, the importance of the information drawing his focus. "That means everyone knows how to use the phials. But that is only part of the process. Before you can even approach a cursed individual to get the potions into them, you have to suffocate the curse."

As there was every year, the trainees looked distinctly uncomfortable with the word 'suffocate.' When Bill had given this same lecture to a group of Auror recruits last year, most of them had actually looked excited. Curse breakers, he knew, liked adventure, but danger was something else. He nodded at them.

"Yes, suffocate. You won't be expected to remember the spell now, it's far too complicated, but I'll show you how it works." He beckoned to Corwyn. _May as well give him a taste of his own medicine._

"Me?" The man gave him a horrified look and Bill stifled his irrational irritation. _A lot of trainees get nervous, it's not his fault._ What Bill really wanted was to ask Fleur; to get near enough to her so that he could maybe calm her with a light touch, under the guise of helping her with a spell . . .

He shook his head to himself. Something told him that trying that move right now would make her even angrier.

He sighed. "Fine. Someone else want to volunteer?" He forced himself not to look in Fleur's direction. It didn't matter, though, because he had barely finished his question when Anabelle was standing up.

"I'll do it!" she said, with far too much enthusiasm for someone about to be cursed.

Bill nodded. "Right then. Obviously, this is going to be a minor curse. There is actually a second spell that can be used to extinguish curses that are merely annoying, and I'll show you that one next. But this first spell, it's almost like a bezoar. If performed quickly and accurately, it can arrest the damage of most curses. The longer the time between the curse and the spell, the less successful it will be, so you will need to stay calm and focus."

He waved his wand at Anabelle and muttered a few quiet words. Almost immediately, red welts raised up on her skin and she began to squirm. "Oh, it itches!" she cried. She staggered over to the wall, wiggling her back against the stone and moaning a bit.

"Now, watch," said Bill. He raised his wand and rapidly began speaking the complicated spell. A heavy purple cloud puffed out from the end of his wand and settled over Anabelle. After a few seconds, she stopped wiggling, and when the cloud cleared, all of the welts were gone.

Anabelle stood up straight. "Ta da!" she cried, as if she, and not Bill, had just performed the spell.

"Yes, very nice, Anabelle," said Bill dryly. "At this point, you would use the phials on the victim and then get them to St. Mungo's. I'm going to demonstrate the spell for the annoyance curses next; you can start learning that one because it's easier." Bill didn't ask for volunteers this time, just pointed his wand at Corwyn and muttered what Fleur recognized as the charley horse hex. The man immediately yelled in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his calves.

Almost lazily, Bill said "watch now," and said the counter spell. Red sparks shot out of his wand and swirled around Corwyn's legs. He stood up, looking a bit put out.

"We've learned the hard way in years past that you all will need more practice before trying the countercurse on each other. So spread out and work alone to start."

Bill walked slowly from trainee to trainee, giving them each more attention than usual. Anabelle asked him question after question, she seemed to have become determined to overcome her deficiencies with wand work by talking through every step in excrutiating detail. By the time he got to Fleur, by design there were only a couple of minutes before the rest of the group was expected at the infirmary for their physicals.

Not surprisingly, Fleur had mastered the counter curse and was calmly shooting red sparks at the wall. Bill approached her warily.

"Not bad," he said. "But there is a better way to hold your wand so that none of the sparks hit your arm. Here, I can show you." He reached forward towards her hand, but Fleur pulled back.

"My grip is quite perfect, and I think you know it," she said icily, voice low. "If I need any more 'elp, I can ask 'zat Wilson to show me, n'est pas?"

"Bill, I'm taking this lot upstairs to the health center, you can clean up down her?" Miriam was looking at him with a calculating look, as if she knew exactly what Fleur had said.

Bill waved at her. "Thanks, Miriam. Let's talk later about my concerns with the site for tomorrow, okay?"

Will do," said Miriam. "Come on, everyone, the Matron can't wait to get her hands on all of you."

The room cleared and the silence between Bill and Fleur grew thick. She was very deliberately not looking at him as she pointed her wand at the various items she had been practicing on and sent them flying back to the shelves that lined the room. Her movements were rather abrupt and more than one snuff box barely missed Bill's head as it zoomed across the room.

"Hey, watch it," he finally said the third time he had to duck a flying Galleon.

"Oh, I am sorry," said Fleur formally. "Did I not hold my wand right? Do you want to show me 'ow the proper way is? Then you can snog me in a broom closet and tell your friends to invite me out, is that what you want to do?"

"Wilson asked you out," Bill said flatly.

Fleur huffed. "Yes, 'e asked me out. And 'e said it was your idea. 'E said you told 'im I was fun, and he should get a chance." Her eyes flashed. "So you are done with me, you think you can just pass me around to your friends?"

"I'm not done with you!" Bill said, more vehemently than he intended. "I mean . . . I know you aren't . . ." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "You made it quite clear that things were not going any further between us. I didn't want to push anymore."

"You seem to like _pushing_ in the closet yesterday," Fleur pointed out. "And what do you mean, things aren't going any further? Where do you not think they are going to go? We haven't gone anywhere."

"Oh come on, Fleur," said Bill. "You told me yourself that you never intend to have sex, what was I supposed to think?"

"That is what this is about? Sex? What does sex 'ave to do with . . . with anything? We are friends, are we not? We 'ave lunch almost every day together, except when you take too long with your _pushing._ And I thought you wanted my 'elp with . . . what I hear from 'ze Goblins." Her voice dropped but the bitterness remained.

"That's different," said Bill, although he was beginning to feel less sure.

"Why?" asked Fleur.

"Because that has nothing to do with . . . the other things we do. You are a Veela, you told me yourself you use your magic to get what you want from men. I saw it with my own eyes. But, at the same time, you don't _want_ anything. Not from me, not from anyone else. No matter what I do or say, you are quick to point out that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself." Bill realized he was yelling and he forced himself to lower his voice. "You made it perfectly clear that you won't do anything _unbecoming,_ so I assumed you would want to move on. Isn't that what you always do?"

"How would you know what I 'always do, you never ask me," said Fleur with the same bitterness Bill had detected earlier. "You assume, yes. You grab me at work, you pick where we go and 'ow long it takes. You tell Mr. Gardiner I need to come back to the curse breakers. You tell your friends to invite me to dinner, when even you 'ave never invited me to dinner yourself!" Fleur's voice had risen; she didn't seem to have the same hesitation about not being heard that Bill did. He considered setting a silencing charm and just as quickly rejected the idea. He opened his mouth to speak but Fleur continued.

"And you say it's because I'm part-Veela?" She said. "When you have never, ever been interested or affected by that part of me? Only when you want to say you snogged a Veela? That you did more with a Veela so you can brag to your friends?"

" You have never asked me out either." Bill found his voice. "Or sought me out for . . . any of that. Why?"

Fleur was silent for a long minute. "Miriam said that you never wanted to settle down, that you were with a different woman every month. And you told me yourself that you hate unwanted attention. That is true, right? That you didn't want too much attention?"

"No." Bill spoke forcefully. "If anything . . . " he stopped, and changed track. "We are both familiar with things . . . physical things, I mean, going only so far, and then the attraction fades. I thought you . . . I mean, I wanted to make it easy for us."

"So it faded for you? That is why you told Wilson to ask me out?"

"No," Bill admitted. "It hasn't faded." He looked at her. "What about for you?"

"I am enjoying myself too," said Fleur carefully.

Bill nodded, feeling more confused than confident. "I just don't know . . ." he began.

"Don't know what?"

 _If I can keep kissing you and then stop. If I can be friends without kissing. If I want to ask for more._

"Don't know what we do from here. I mean, as you said, you can take care of yourself. And I . . . I guess I can take care of myself too." Bill wasn't sure his meaning was clear. Fleur nodded. She seemed to be thinking.

"I want to be friends with you," she finally said. "I don't really know that many other friends in London. But maybe, maybe you are right. 'Eet is too complicated to be . . . other things too. I am Veela. You are . . ."

"I know," said Bill quickly. "I get it." He hoped he was hiding his disappointment. He took a breath.

"But, I would still like you to come with me tomorrow to curse break the pirate treasure. We finally identified the site; it's in the north, near Hogwarts actually. Miriam told me that Anabelle has been working around the clock with her to map the location. I'm glad she seems to be realizing that she is better at the research part of curse breaking. Her spellwork is still rather . . . inconsistent." Bill gave a wry smile.

Fleur nodded. "Of course. Miriam told me there are likely to be secondary curses. I would like to help . . . protect you while you work." She looked Bill in the eye and he detected a bit of her characteristic pride. Any innuendo or suggestion about what had happened the last time Fleur had protected him was missing. He sighed to himself.

"Good then. I will see you here tomorrow morning." He turned away from her quickly and strode out of the room. Fleur seemed calmed by their agreement, and Bill did not want to risk saying the wrong thing again.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur watched Bill leave and then slowly gathered up her own cloak and prepared to walk home. She wasn't sure what she felt about their argument earlier, or the way they had finally, sort of, resolved it. What she did know was that they had both admitted they had liked their trysts and that they had both agreed not to have them anymore. They were going to be friends. Only friends.

Fleur sighed as she walked through Diagon Alley towards her flat. She had been so angry when Wilson had told her that Bill had suggested he ask Fleur out. Normally, that kind of thing was annoying but not uncommon; why had it bothered her when Bill had treated her the same as all the other men with which she had _le dalliance?_ She let herself into her flat, thinking about dinner, maybe a hot bath later, and then getting to sleep early. Tomorrow was sure to be a long, difficult day. Bill was excited to finally be going after the ancient pirate treasure and Fleur was looking forward to seeing him in the environment he loved.

Before going to run her bath, she carefully laid out her robes for the next day, checking to see that one pocket held the pewter coin Bill had shown them earlier. Just as she was heading to her bathroom, thinking about the charms she wanted to use to perfume the water, Bill's silver cheetah Patronus dropped down in front of her.

Fleur was startled, and grabbed her wand, thinking something terrible had happened. She racked her brain for anything suspicious she had overheard recently, but could not think of anything.

But the Patronus just sat there, looking at her. It's mouth opened and closed several times, almost as if Bill had been trying to think of something to say and come up empty. After a minute, it faded quietly away.

Despite herself, Fleur smiled. She and Bill had more to talk about, it seemed to be saying.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur arrived at the Bank well before it opened the next morning. Only Bill and Miriam were in the basement work rooms, pouring over yet more glowing maps.

"And here, I think there should be two, maybe three of those seafarers curses we were talking about. We aren't sure of the exact nature of them, but I think starting with a standard extinguish sequence should work to start."

Bill nodded and then pointed at another part of the map. "This pentacle shaped curse area is going to be the trickiest," he said. "I'm going to start there and work outward." He looked up and Fleur saw an unreadable expression cross his face before it relaxed into a smile. "Fleur, glad you made it," he said. He stood up from the table. "Just a few things before we leave.

Bill walked over to her, but stopped abruptly about three feet away, and Fleur had the distinct impression he had been planning to come much closer. "Do you have your coin?" He asked.

"Fleur nodded and patted her pocket. "Right here," she confirmed.

Bill held out two crystal phials. "I want you to carry these too," he said. "Just in case. This is a much more dangerous area than the cave" His eyes looked at her seriously.

Fleur took the phials, careful not to touch Bill's hand as she did so. "Will you bring me Side-Along?" She wasn't sure what she wanted his answer to be.

Bill shook his head. "Not this time, no. I will go first. You will wait for a count of ten and them Miriam will send you to a location just outside the cursed area." He gestured back to the map. "We have identified the safe zone."

Fleur took a deep breath and nodded, matching Bill and Miram's gravity. "I am ready," she said.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

She knew immediately that something was wrong. Fleur had arrived – as planned – just inside the copse of trees she had viewed on the glowing map. From there, she could see out towards what was supposed to be a small clearing in front of the hillock where the treasure was buried, with Bill standing in front of it assessing the locations of the curses.

Instead, a smoky, brownish glow blocked most of her view of the hill. There was a crackling sound all around her, but it didn't sound like fire. Worst by far was the figure lying prone on the ground in the middle of the clearing. Bill was convulsing, his hands rigid at his sides, a horrible "guh guh guh" sound coming from his throat. Swirling around him was what looked like ropes made of the same brown smoke. They swooped up and down as if they were lashing at him; despite the fact that they should have had no mass, wherever a rope made contact, a bleeding gash opened up. The ropes were moving slowly, almost deliberately, and already Fleur counted half a dozen wounds.

She didn't stop to think. "Accio Bill's Wand!" she screamed, and it flew to her hand from the ground where he had dropped it. Barely aware of what she was doing, Fleur touched the tip of her wand to Bill's. "Priori Incantatem," she muttered, and immediately, the last spells Bill had cast began tumbling out of the wand into the space in front of her.

She ignored the first few spells – the half-finished one he had tried to cast when he had arrived, the silent Patronus he had sent her last night, a couple of Accio's. When she saw the reddish sparks she knew she was close, and as soon as the heavy purple cloud emerged from the wand Fleur muttered the complex transfer spell and pulled hard, bringing the purple cloud to her and her wand. Holding it in front of her like a shield, she ran through the cursed smoke to Bill. He was still convulsing, and bleeding from more wounds now. His eyes were shut, his teeth gritted in obvious pain. The noises he was making were even worse up close; he sounded as if he was trying to breathe through a throat that offered no air.

Fleur brandished her wand and yelled the second part of the transfer spell. The purple cloud erupted from her wand and began to grow, surrounding the writhing smoky ropes and then settling over Bill like a blanket. For long seconds, she couldn't see anything but the shape of his body moving restlessly under its shroud. It took much longer than it had with Anabelle. Then the cloud melted away, taking the ropes with it. Bill's wounds were bleeding more sluggishly and seemed to be trying to mend themselves. But he was still unconscious, and now only twitching feebly.

Grateful that Bill had insisted she carry them, Fleur thrust her hand into her robes and pulled out the two tiny bottles. "Silver, then black," she whispered to herself. She knelt at Bill's head and pulled off the top of the first bottle. Grabbing his chin, she forced open his mouth. It was too easy; he had stopped gritting his teeth and now his jaw hung slack. She shoved the bottle as far into his mouth as she dared and poured the silvery liquid down his throat. It didn't need to be swallowed, she remembered him saying. It knew where to go in his body to find the poison. She closed her eyes, waiting, and remembering his words when he had explained the bottles to her.

" _You must get the silver bottle down as soon as possible if it's to have any effect," he'd said. "It's extremely powerful, but only if used early enough."_

Strictly speaking, Fleur hadn't needed to learn about the potions; she had missed the formal training session about them. But after the first cave, when Bill had begun including her in his lessons to the real trainees, she had been trying to absorb as much as she could. And Bill had been happy, more than happy, to give her some private lessons. Now his voice echoed through her head again.

 _The silver bottle will flow easily down the throat. You will know it worked if . . . after a minute or two, the victim breathes out puffs of silver smoke. That means that the curse has been captured in the body before it traveled too far, and pulled together in a single mass of dark energy. Only then should you . . . move onto the black bottle._

At the time, Bill had been sitting in his rarely-used desk chair and Fleur had been sitting on his lap. His voice had been husky in her ear as he tickled one bottle and then the other up her arm and across her chest, punctuating his sentences with soft kisses.

Thank Merlin that she had a good memory, even when distracted; the Veela ability to compartmentalize between physical pleasures and other conversation was not to be taken lightly. Fleur squeezed the black bottle, remembering Bill's next words.

 _The black bottle is trickier. The potion inside is thick and must be swallowed – forced down, if necessary. If done right, it will reach the curse and expel it from the body._

Bill's hand had reached the inside of Fleur's robes, slipped underneath the bottom of her shirt, and was running gently up the side of her waist. She had deliberately wiggled her bum in his lap, delighted at his sharp intake of breath before she began trailing kisses of her own down his neck. "And 'zen what 'appens?" she had asked.

Bill had been unable to answer for a moment when Fleur wiggled again. He had finally gathered his train of thought to continue.

" _Then, and only then, is it safe to Apparate the victim to medical help. But you . . . must wait . . . until the . . . curse . . . is expelled._ He had punctuated his words with soft thrusts against her bum, and soon all thoughts of curses and potions had flown entirely out of her mind.

Fleur hoped she had learned enough. Bill was very still now, frighteningly so, his skin taking on a pale, pearly sheen. She stared at his mouth, trying not to think of how just yesterday it had been smirking and talking , and how it had kissed her the day before that. Even last night, when it was tight with anger because of their stupid fight, it had been so _alive._ They still needed to talk. Now she only hoped she somehow got the chance to find out what he wanted to talk about.

Fleur counted. Twenty seconds. Thirty. And still, Bill was silent. Fifty. Sixty. Fleur angrily pushed the tears away from her eyes, they were getting in the way. Silence. Even the wind stood still as she watched Bill's face. And then finally, a small puff of silvery air, so faint she thought at first she imagined it, floated through his lips. Seconds later he blew out a second, slightly stronger silver cloud, this one bright enough for her to watch as it dissolved into the air. That was all, and she as much as she wracked her brain, she couldn't remember if Bill had mentioned how much silver was enough to know the potion had worked. It didn't matter anyway.

Her hands were shaking too much to open the bottle; she pointed her wand at it and the top flew off into the trees. She didn't want to move him but there was no way he would be able to swallow, lying flat on the ground like he was. Moving as quickly as she dared, she sat beside him and gently lifted his head into her lap. He groaned quietly and Fleur reveled at the sound.

The black potion smelled terrible and Fleur had to fight the urge to gag as she tipped it into Bill's mouth. It flowed slugglishly, and she had now idea how she was going to get him to swallow it. _Would she get thrown into Azkeban if she Imperiuse'd him to save his life? Could you even put the Imperius Curse on someone who was unconscious?_ Desperate, she raised her wand to his head and tried to gather her thoughts. But at that moment, he made a choking sound as some of the potion reached the back of his throat. Remembering suddenly how her Maman had gotten Gabrielle to swallow medicine when she was small, Fleur raised Bill's head a little higher and tapped on his cheek. He swallowed convulsively once, and then again. Encouraged, she tilted the bottle higher and shook it to get the potion to flow as quickly as possible, tapping on his cheek more firmly and shaking his head from side to side in her haste to get the liquid into him.

Bill choked again, arching his back, and Fleur tried to remember what he had said to look for next, to know if the antidote was working. Seizing on the memory, she ripped open his robes and pushed up his shirt, watching as the skin on his chest and stomach darkened as the potion found the curse the silver liquid had trapped inside him. She wrapped her arms around him, massaging the dark stain that spread across his skin. "Stay with me, Bill," she said firmly, as if she was speaking to a petulant child. "I've got you now. Don't worry. Stay with me, love." The last word slipped out but Fleur didn't even notice, so intent was she watching the slow rise and fall of Bill's chest.

His stomach, which had been getting darker, suddenly began to fade and Fleur startled. _Bill hadn't mentioned that it would fade._ She looked up in a panic, as if an explanation would be floating in the air. Of course, it wasn't, but instead she saw the potion bottle, not yet empty, had fallen away from his mouth.

" _Make sure you get every drop of potion into the victim,"_ Bill's voice intoned in her head. Fleur pushed the bottle back into his mouth, rocking his head from side to side until he began swallowing. His eyes had closed again and as she watched, his chest and stomach began to darken again. But only when the bottle was completely empty and the skin on his chest and stomach almost black did she allow herself to watch his face.

Several tense minutes passed while Fleur imagined a dozen things she should have done differently. At some point she had taken his hand and was rubbing gently against his palm, squeezing the smooth skin of his fingers and wishing he would squeeze back.

Just when she wondered if this was it, if she would have to break protocol and Apparate him to St. Mungo's despite his warning not to, he suddenly groaned. His eyes flew open, the usual blue now black as night; Fleur had no idea if he could see or if he had any awareness at all.

"Bill?" Fleur put her hands on both sides of his face and looked down into his eyes, which were darting frantically left and right. He groaned again. "Can you 'ear me? Should I . . . I mean, do I need to take you . . . I don't know what to do next!" Her voice rose, the panic finally spilling over now that she had exhausted her store of knowledge. "S'il vous plait, Bill, ne me quitte pas!"

Fleur didn't realize she had slipped back into French as she begged Bill not to leave her. She clutched her wand, frantically trying to figure out what to do next – was there a spell she had missed, did he not drink enough of the potion? What else had he said – why had she focused more on kissing him than listening – didn't she realize he had been teaching her how to save his life?

"I won't." His voice was rough and raw.

Her eyes flew to his. They had stopped moving and were now looking up at her. They were still black, but this time Fleur knew they saw her.

"You won't what?" Her hands were still on either side of his face and now she brushed her thumb across his cheek.

"Leave you. I won't leave you." Bill's voice was weak but clear and he stared up at her as if her face was his lifeline.

"Promise?" Fleur's voice was equally rough.

Bill nodded and Fleur could see he was struggling to speak.

"I . . . need you , . . ." He began, and then stopped as a tremor passed through his body. He swallowed and tried again. "You did . . .I need you to . . . for . . ." his eyes were desperate. "I have to . . . please," he mumbled. He was beginning to slur his words and his eyes fluttered.

"What do I . . . she began, hoping that he would be able to tell her what to do next. But he had closed his eyes again and his breathing had gone shallow, the sound interrupted only when he stopped to swallow thickly.

And Fleur remembered the playful laugh in Bill's voice as he had described, in much too great of detail, how the antidote finally expelled the curse from one's body.

 _She had been teasing him, rising up off his lap and threatening to go back to her flat or worse, to finally accept a date with Atticus Beckett, the head of Gringotts security who they joked was part troll. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him; she was sure he could not miss her sigh of satisfaction. "Oh no, you don't," he said. "I haven't finished the lesson. This is Fred and George's favorite part!"_

 _Fleur twisted in his lap and kissed him full on his mouth, moving so that her legs straddled his waist. Just when he opened his lips and pressed his tongue against hers, she pulled back, grinning. "Why do I 'zink ttthat I won't like 'zis part as much as Fred and George?"_

 _And Bill had grabbed the back of her head and brought her to him again. "It's how they got their idea for Puking Pastiles," he admitted. And he kissed her deeply in between whispering the rest in her ear and this time she didn't try to pull away._

Bill's groan brought Fleur back to the present, where reality was nothing at all like the joking stories he had told.

"Need . . . to get the curse out," he said heavily. "Need to be sick." He gagged weakly and struggled to raise his head off her lap.

Fleur helped Bill to sit up and he rolled off her lap and onto his hands and knees. "Get away," he panted. "Now." He gagged again, harder this time, and Fleur could tell he was struggling for control. "It's poisonous," he managed finally. He crawled a few feet towards the trees and looked back at her, his eyes pleading.

Fleur warred with herself for only a minute. As much as she wanted to be with Bill, offering comfort, she knew Bill wouldn't let himself go until he knew she was safe, and she didn't want to prolong his agony. She backed away in the opposite direction, wand tight in her hand and ready to help him if he needed it, curse be damned.

When he saw that she was halfway across the clearing, Bill lowered his head again. His stomach convulsed and he vomited up an inky black substance that spattered onto the ground and then sunk sizzling beneath the earth. Over and over he retched and Fleur could see the dark stain leave his middle and his face turn deathly pale.

Finally, it was over. Bill sat back on his knees and put his head in his hands, obviously exhausted. Fleur stood up and had taken no more than a step towards him when his head jerked up again.

"Not yet."

 _Mon Dieu, was there more?_

Bill was looking around him. "My wand. Where is it?"

Fleur looked towards the copse of trees. This time, she couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice as she said the spell. "Accio Bill's wand!" It flew to her from the place she had dropped it and she looked at Bill uncertainly.

"Levitate it to me," he said weakly. "The ground here . . . it's contaminated now. I need to ward it, to contain the poison." Fleur watched as Bill got slowly to his feet. He swayed a little in place she saw him set his jaw tightly. It took all her control not to go to him. She watched intently as he walked a slow circle, hoarsely murmuring a series of spells and charms she had never heard. He finally dropped his wand to his side and turned towards her, his eyes seeking hers. He had taken no more than a single, stumbling step in her direction before she was there, wrapping her arms around him and brushing his sweaty hair off his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyes closed.

"Sorry for what? For scaring me 'alf to death that I was going to lose you?" Fleur could not keep the tremor out of her voice.

"For that, and for everything else . . . not telling you how I . . . and Wilson . . . everything," he said.

Fleur kissed him on the forehead. "You are forgiven," she said. "But if you ever, ever do 'zat to me again, I will make zis curse look like a _Wingardium Leviosa_. I told you, don't ever make a Veela angry."

Bill nodded against her. "I promise," he managed. Then he winced. "Can you take me to St. Mungo's now? Use the coin - straight to the 4th Floor – Curse emergencies. I'm not . . . I'm not well yet."

Fleur nodded and tightened her arms around him before grabbing the coin in her pocket and feeling the jerk of the Portkey.


	9. Chapter 9

The Portkey seemed to take forever. Fleur could feel Bill slumping against her and she tightened her arms around him and hoped he stayed conscious. They finally arrived in a confusing swirl of purple. Bill's knees buckled and he sank to the ground just as Fleur felt a cold draft cover her from head to toe. Suddenly, she was in another room, an ordinary hospital room, and several healers were peering at her through heavy, hooded cloaks.

"She's clean," one said, and almost as one, the healers pushed their hoods off.

"Bill, 'ow is he?" she asked.

"We don't know for sure yet," said one of the healers, a serious looking woman. "Can you tell us everything that happened?"

They all began peppering her with questions and Fleur tried to remember every detail she could. At one point, the healers stopped asking questions to confer in a corner of the room, and Fleur finally had a chance to look around. Through a window in the wall, she could see the purple-tinged space where they had arrived. It was a heavily warded room, she realized, the purple looked to be made of the same suffocation spell she had used earlier. A crowd of hooded healers was in the room and Fleur could just make out Bill, lying on a stretcher in their midst. His eyes were closed and his face still deathly pale, but Fleur saw his foot twitch.

"So, you performed the suffocation spell and then administered both potions?" One of the healers was talking, and Fleur reluctantly turned away from the window to answer.

"Yes. I did 'ze spell, then gave him 'ze silver potion, and then 'ze black."

"You are not a curse breaker, correct? Not even a trainee, by the looks of your robes. How did you know how to do the suffocation spell?" Another healer looked at her with a skeptical expression.

Her adrenaline was fading; Fleur was suddenly very tired. "I did a transfer spell, okay?" she said shortly. She rubbed her eyes and wished everyone would stop asking questions. "May I see Bill now?"

The healers ignored her. One spoke into his wand, apparently sending a message to someone Fleur couldn't see. "She didn't do the spell herself; it may not be right. You'll need to recheck him."

"Bill showed us 'ze suffocation spell yesterday and I took it out of his wand. And 'eet is a good thing I know how to do that, is it not?" Fleur felt herself getting angry and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "I did everything right. The suffocation spell, the silver potion, the black potion, everything." A jolt went through her as she thought of something. "I didn't heal 'is wounds though. From where the curse lashed at 'im. I brought 'im here and he was still bleeding, I think."

The male healer waved away her concern. "The lacerations we can fix. Are you certain he took all of both potions? And did he expel the curse before you transferred him here?"

Fleur nodded. "Yes. And yes. 'E vomited the curse. And then 'e put wards on the ground to protect the space. And only then did I bring him here."

"Bill had the presence of mind and strength to ward the area before you transferred him?" The healers were impressed, and Fleur's revelation led to a round of discussion with the healers in the room with Bill.

"He is lucky he is so good at what he does." Fleur overheard two of the healers talking. "A weaker or less experienced curse breaker would not have made it. Especially with . . ." One of them glanced at Fleur. Fleur looked back at her frankly.

"Especially with what?" she asked.

"Never mind," said the healer quickly. She smoothed her hair in a self-conscious way and Fleur sighed to herself.

"Miriam Wrightwood will be here soon," The healer continued. "She will give us an overview of what curses Bill likely experienced and how they should be treated." The woman was only half paying attention to Fleur as she spoke, and Fleur got the impression that they didn't trust anything she had told them. Another one patted her arm. "We will let you sit in the room shortly, if you promise to stay out of the way. I bet Bill would like to see something pretty when he wakes up."

Fleur tried to stifle her frustration. The important thing was that Bill was, by all appearances, going to be okay. It didn't really matter why or how, or what the others thought of her. It was like it always was. She knew what she had done, and that would have to be enough.

Still, she couldn't help but notice how three of the female healers were talking amiably together outside of Bill's room. The friendliness and camaraderie they displayed was something Fleur had never really experienced. Her best friend had always been her little sister, Gabrielle. She had never missed female friendships before. Why did she suddenly notice their lack now?

"You can see him now. Unless, maybe, you wanted to get a cup of tea first?" The male healer spoke to Fleur with a hopeful air. She quickly shook her head.

"No, thank you," she said carefully. "That is very kind of you, to ask me," she added. She did not want to offend the man. "I think I should see Bill now."

The healer nodded with an expression of inevitability and unlocked the wards to let her into the room."

Inside, Bill was lying in a bed, his head raised up so that Fleur could see his face. There was a chair near the wall and she pulled it over next to him and sat down. He opened his eyes slowly at the sound, looking confused. Then he saw her, and his expression relaxed into a smile.

"Fleur," he said hoarsely.

His hands were on top of the blankets and Fleur took one in hers; it was freezing cold. "I . . . I . . ," she began. To her great surprise, her eyes pricked with tears. She pushed them away impatiently. She _never_ cried.

"I know," said Bill quietly. "Me too." His face was serene; the contrast with how she'd seen him only an hour previously was stark, and Fleur found herself without words. She stared at him instead, wanting to make sure he was actually, really here, and really okay.

"You were fucking brilliant," he said. "Using the transfer spell – it was perfect. The healers think you got the suffocation spell over me faster than if someone had said the entire incantation."

"I was so scared!" The words burst out of Fleur before she could stop them. "You were . . . dying. What if I 'ad been too slow? Or you 'ad not just shown us that spell, or if . . ."

"Or if the curse had gotten you too," interrupted Bill. The serene expression left his face. "I keep thinking about that, that if you had apparated just a foot or two closer, or the curse had spread more quickly. . . and you and I wouldn't have had the chance . . ." he broke off, looking tortured.

"I guess we 'are both lucky everything went right today, non?"

"Very lucky," Bill said fervently. "Especially after I almost bolluxed everything up yesterday."

"Bolluxed? What 'eez bolluxed? I do not think I know 'zat word."

"It means made a mess of things. I almost made a mess of things," Bill explained. "When I told Wilson to ask you out."

"Ahh yes, Wilson," said Fleur. She was quiet for a moment. "'Ow do you feel?" she finally asked. "Because if we are going to talk about Wilson and . . . other things, I want to make sure you know what you are saying."

Bill nodded. "That's a fair question. I think there is a lot we need to talk about." He raised his eyebrows in a question and Fleur nodded back. "I'm exhausted," he admitted. "I'm . . . trying to hide it so the healers will leave me alone, but my head aches, my stomach is still unsettled, and my legs aren't working properly. But . . . " he squeezed Fleur's hand. "My mind is completely clear. I remember everything I said yesterday. And what I didn't say . . . what I should have said."

"You sent me your Patronus."

"Yes. I must have sat there with it looking at me for ten minutes, trying to figure out what to say." He looked at her. "Everything sounded wrong. It's easier to talk to you face to face. That way, if I screw up, at least I can try to explain right away."

Fleur nodded. "I knew what you meant," she said. "But I like talking to you face to face better too."

Bill took a deep breath. "Aside from being an idiot about Wilson, I . . . shouldn't have, umm . . ." he broke off, looking sheepish. He shook his head to himself and tried again. "I shouldn't have gotten upset that you don't want to make love with me," he said in a rush. "That was unfair."

"It was," Fleur agreed. Bill looked at her in surprise, and Fleur shrugged in understanding. On the few occasions she had ever felt it necessary to apologize for her behavior, the man in question had always fallen all over himself assuring her that it was not her fault. She suspected it was much the same for Bill and women.

"I am not used to a woman rejecting me," he said quietly, confirming Fleur's suspicions.

"I didn't reject you," said Fleur quickly. "If anything, I . . ." she broke off, unsure.

"If anything you what, Fleur?" asked Bill. His eyes were serious.

Fleur took a deep breath. "If anything, I want you too much," she said quietly.

In the silence that followed, Fleur kept her eyes firmly on the bed in front of her. Bill's legs moved restlessly under the blanket but he did not speak. When she finally raised her head, she wasn't sure what to expect. Bill was watching her carefully, an almost unreadable expression on his face.

Fleur laughed shakily. "I . . . feel like your Patronus," she said.

Bill's smile quirked. "Maybe you will have better luck saying what I could not, but that I should be able to," he said.

Fleur nodded. "I . . . 'ave only a few women as friends, just a few," she said. Most women . . . well, 'zey don't want to be my friend. Gabrielle, she 'eez my favorite person in 'ze world." She smiled, thinking of her little sister, whom she hadn't seen since Easter.

Bill smiled too and nodded. "Little sisters are a special breed," he agreed.

"But, men, I 'ave never been friends with. I never even dated anyone for very long," she admitted. "As I think I 'ave told you before, most boys, and men too, are only interested in one thing, and that thing with a Veela, even better."

"Wilson," said Bill, leaning back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What an idiot I was."

"Wilson was at least polite about it," Fleur said. "Not like some." She wanted to lighten Bill's mood. "Did I ever tell you about the professor at Beauxbatons?"

It worked. Bill snorted. "No, a professor? That sounds quite illegal, Miss Delacour."

Fleur shrugged. "In England, maybe. Not so much in France."

Bill sighed. "I don't think I want to know."

"You don't," Fleur agreed. "Because . . . because they were all the same. The men. Boys. Until I met you."

Fleur could feel the air shift in the room. Bill sat up a little straighter, the trace of smile on his face gone. He was listening intently.

"You, you are different," she said. "From 'ze start, you saw me more than merely Veela. Even when I am not a real trainee, you treat me like I 'ave a brain in my head, like I didn't 'ave to prove it to you. " She looked him in the eye. "I 'ave never had a friend before, who is a man," she said quietly. "You are my first. But . . ." she stopped, hesitating, then nodded to herself before continuing. "But . . ."

"But the feelings are stronger than just a friendship." Bill finished her sentence.

"How did you . . .?" she began. She shook her head. "I always knew you could tell what I was thinking," she said quietly, almost to herself. To her surprise, Bill chuckled.

"Actually, I find you very hard to read, Miss Delacour," said Bill. "You are one of the most. . . complicated women I have ever met. I usually don't care . . ." Bill broke off and ran his hand through his hair. "It's the Patronus again," he said softly. "He took another breath. "I usually don't care about trying to figure out what a woman I am with is thinking. Of course, they often aren't thinking about much." He raised his eyebrows and Fleur nodded in agreement.

"But then, I met you," he said quietly. "And I found myself wanting to talk to you, to teach you, to be with you. I found myself caring what you thought, as you said . . . _too much."_ The words came out, haltingly, and Fleur understood exactly how difficult they had been for him to say. She looked up; there was not a hint of a smile on his face. His hands were still lying on top of the blanket and she again took one in hers.

In response, Bill shivered. "Of course, there was . . . is . . . the physical attraction." He nodded at their hands and Fleur nodded back. "But for a long time I tried to convince myself that being with you was like being with any other woman." He took a deep breath and touched Fleur's cheek, turning her head so that she faced him fully.

"You ask how I knew that your feelings for me are more than just as friends?" Bill swallowed hard. "It's because . . . it's more than friends for me too."

"Oh," said Fleur softly. Bill was rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand and for a moment she was entirely focused on the tiny movement of his skin on hers.

"I think we are more alike than we realized," she finally said. Bill nodded.

She had been unconsciously sliding her chair closer to the side of his bed and now he moved over so that she could sit on the edge. "Is 'zis okay?" She asked hesitantly. "I don't want to cause any discomfort."

"Never," he said. "You could never cause me discomfort." He shrugged. "Except when you are forcing me to drink terrible potions, of course."

"You must never need me to do that again," responded Fleur promptly.

"I promise," said Bill. He smiled at her. "That is the second time today I have promised you something, when I don't think I have ever promised a woman even once before."

Fleur nodded. "You promised not to leave me," she said. "But maybe that is a promise you do not wish to keep anymore, now that you are not . . . dying?"

Bill's mouth tightened with the memory. "I am, of course, happy not to be dying," he said. "But all this time, I don't think I've really been living either." He looked at her. "I keep my promises," he said.

Fleur nodded. "I am glad," she said.

There was much more to say, of course, but Bill's eyes were fluttering shut and Fleur herself felt the exhaustion of the day washing over her. She was about to tell Bill that it was probably time for her to leave, at least for a little while, when a commotion in the hallway startled them both. A number of voices were speaking when one suddenly rose above the rest.

"Like hell you are going to give them to him again, not if you say he doesn't really need it!"

Bill looked at Fleur. "I think that's Miriam," he said. He sat up straighter and looked as though he wanted to get up.

"Stay there," said Fleur. "I will go find out what she wants."

But before she could even get off of Bill's bed, Miriam strode through the wards, eyes blazing. She looked Bill up and down and nodded, apparently satisfied that he was in one piece. Her eyes took in Fleur sitting on his bed and their clasped hands and she nodded again, satisfied with that as well. "About time," she said. She rounded on the healer who had come through the wards with her. "You see? He's perfectly fine. The restorative potions are more than enough."

"What's going on here, Miriam?" Bill turned sideway in the bed and put his feet on the ground.

"Oh no, you don't," said the healer firmly. "You are not nearly ready to get out of bed. Your legs won't support you yet."

Bill didn't disagree, and by the meekness with which he quietly lay back down, Fleur suspected his strength did not yet match his bravado. She straightened his pillow and took his hand again. He gave her a grateful smile and lay back. "Thank you," he said quietly. He looked at his boss. "Miriam?" he asked again.

"The want to give you another round of the expulsion potions," Miriam explained. "Even though the healers all agree that their tests have shown no residual curse inside you. It's _procedure_ they said." She grimaced with disgust, as if to say exactly what she thought of the healers and their procedures.

"'Zey want to give 'im the silver and the black again? To make sure the curse is really gone?" Fleur looked from face to face, trying to understand if there was a need to be worried.

Next to her, Bill shuddered. "I will take them again if you think there is any chance some of the curse is left," he said. "But if you are only following procedure without any consideration to whether I actually need them . . ."

"Of course you don't need them!" Miriam interrupted. "They haven't been able to detect even the smallest trace of curse left inside of you. Fleur got that suffocation spell on you and then the potions down so quickly they think you would have survived transfer even before expulsion of the curse. And given the seriousness of what you were dealing with, that is saying something." Miriam turned to Fleur, admiration in her eyes. "Only your quick actions saved his life, and we all thank you for it."

Fleur nodded, unaccustomed to the praise, but feeling warm inside at Miriam's words. "I am glad it was enough," she said.

"Fine, fine," the healer said. "Restorative potions only." He looked at Fleur and Miriam. "He will need to take them every two hours for the next three days. He needs to rest in between and I suggest that the two of you go home as well. He can have visitors again tomorrow." He looked at Fleur. "No kissing until he has finished his potions," he said firmly. "Not on the lips." He bustled out and Miriam soon followed, leaving Fleur again alone with Bill.

"I am glad you do not have to take the black potion again," she said. "But I would 'ave stayed with you if you did."

"I am glad too, although it sounds like my hope for a good night sleep is gone." Bill took Fleur hand again. "We have more to talk about," he said. "Will you come back tomorrow? I told Miriam not to tell my family about this – my mum worries enough about Percy as it is."

"Of course I will come back." Fleur leaned down and gently bushed her lips against Bill's forehead. He shivered.

"Three days without kissing you is a long time," he said quietly.

Fleur ran her finger down Bill's cheek. "I will be sure to make it worth 'ze wait."


	10. Chapter 10

Three days without kissing ended up being a good thing. Fleur spent nearly every hour of that time at Bill's bedside. They talked, she watched him sleep, she helped him walk the length of the room on shaky legs, and they talked some more. At some point during those days Fleur stopped worrying for good about what Bill wanted from her and what she was ready to give. She admitted to him that she had always kept men at arms length to protect against losing that side of her that was brains and talent and drive – the side few people saw or even suspected she possessed.

"If you let your Veela side get too dominant, you might start to rely on it instead of your magic." Bill was sitting up in bed, his color finally looking closer to normal. He was holding her hand, as he had nearly the entire time she had spent with him.

"Exactly. But I do not want to deny that side of me either," Fleur agreed. She raised their twined hands to her lips and gently kissed along his knuckles in a gesture that had already become familiar. Bill shuddered and squeezed her hand tightly for a moment.

"But . . ." she continued, "until now, until I met you, 'eet wasn't difficult to keep the balance. 'Ze men were only interested in my Veela side, and they never lasted for long. I didn't care what they thought." She was quiet for a few seconds. "I care what you think. I know you don't always like my Veela side, that it doesn't affect you, and it made me feel . . .conflicted."

Bill nodded. "It's part of you," he said. "I get that now." He smiled gently. "Despite what I may have said earlier, I do like it." He smirked. "And, whatever you think, Miss Delacour, your Veela magic absolutely does affect me."

Fleur raised her eyebrows. "'Zat is something I will have to explore later, when you are more healed."

Bill nodded. "I look forward to that." He grimaced. "I don't think . . . I'm quite there yet though."

"Do you need to rest?" Bill had been taking regular naps, sometimes even dozing mid-sentence while they talked. The healers were confident he would be able to leave the hospital in another few days, but his strength would take longer to recover fully.

"I'm okay for now, I think," he said. "I want to keep talking." Bill seemed determined to learn as much about her as he could. "You mentioned that women can be difficult as well?" His gaze was intense with the expression Fleur had previously thought meant he could see right through her. She now knew it was that he was trying hard to figure her out.

She nodded. "Even with women, it is rare for them to see me as anything other than a pretty face and an empty head. And they all think I want to take their 'usbands or boyfriends. I don't, of course."

"Of course not," said Bill, inclining his head in agreement..

"It sometimes makes me appear . . . less understanding. To other women." Fleur shrugged. "That is why I like Miriam."

"I like her too," said Bill. "And you have made a few more allies among the curse breakers too. Even before you saved my life, Jonah was impressed with your skills." He gave a slight grimace. "But I guess he liked your looks too."

"And that is okay," said Fleur. "I won't ever stop being part Veela. But it is nice to hear that I am not the only one who knows I am more than that."

"If you were not more than that, I don't think I would . . ." Bill began. He stopped, huffing quietly to himself.

Fleur waited. She had been completely honest and expected no less from him.

". . . .I don't think I would have spent so much time wanting to understand you. I think deep down I knew from the start that your differences were going to challenge me and I wasn't prepared for that."

And Bill laid himself bare. Fleur recognized in every word and expression how new it was for him to share himself with another person and she was grateful for it. Despite his large family and tight group of friends, Fleur learned that Bill always kept his closest secrets to himself. Until now.

He talked about his family and the responsibility he felt as the oldest. He absolutely agreed with his parents' choice to exchange financial comfort for the love of a large family, but he worried about them nonetheless. He was more than proud of their status as blood traitors, but feared that the rising darkness would not leave them all unscathed. And he admitted that he had always expected to live life like his brother Charlie – seeking adventure, but never finding a partner.

"But now . . ." he said quietly.

"Yes, now," she replied, kissing his hand.

They hadn't yet said the words, but the shift between them was unmistakable.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

On the third day after being cursed, Bill asked if he could have a proper wash.

"I'd like a shower, unless you are ready to discharge me," he said to the matronly healer who had been bringing him his restorative potions.

"You'll be here another two or three days at least. You are still pretty shaky on your feet, and you live alone," she said. "Or you can make arrangements to go to your parents' house."

"No," said Bill immediately. "They don't need anything else to worry about." He looked at Fleur. "You don't think I'm wrong not to tell them, do you?" It was not the first time he had asked.

"I think you can wait until you are home and more recovered. But then you must let them know immediately." She answered him the same way every time.

Bill nodded. "Okay. I'll stay, but I want real hot water and soap, and to be somewhere other than my bed for it."

The healer nodded. "I'll see about getting a shower sorted."

It took longer to arrange than Fleur expected. Apparently, St. Mungos relied almost exclusively on cleansing spells and charms for sanitation. Fleur was reluctantly preparing to leave for the evening when the matronly healer appeared carrying several large towels and a basket of bath supplies.

"Let's get going," the healer said. "Are you ready to walk down the hall?"

Bill sat sideways on his bed and put his feet on the floor. For all his insistence about getting up, he already looked rather tired from the activity. He nodded and slowly stood, looking at Fleur.

"It is time for me to go, I think," she said carefully. "You can walk me to 'ze lifts." She held out her arm and Bill took it gratefully. She leaned into him as if he were supporting her for the short walk.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

The bathroom had been set up at the other end of the floor. It was farther than Bill had tried to walk yet and he was breathing heavily before they were halfway down the hall. Fleur squeezed his arm and slowed her steps, even stopping once on the pretense of removing a stone from her shoe. She knew Bill wasn't fooled.

As they approached the lifts where she was to leave, he stumbled against her, legs giving out. Fleur immediately had her wand out, silently casting a spell to hold him upright; the healer, walking ahead to unlock the door, didn't even notice.

Bill gave a small chuckle. "I'm losing count of the times your quick reflexes have kept me from falling on my arse." He was looking very firmly at the wall opposite them when he spoke next. "Would you . . . stay? Not because I want to . . . any of _that_ ," he said quickly. "It's nothing like that. I just feel more . . . with you. I mean, I don't know that the healer is up to the task of keeping me on my feet."

Fleur knew how hard it was for Bill to ask for help. "Of course," she said lightly. "But keeping you on your feet 'eez a big task. Maybe I need a second wand."

Bill gave a small snort. "Witch," he said fondly, kissing the top of her head.

The healer merely shrugged and handed over the basket when Bill told her that Fleur would help him into the shower. "There is a bench for him to sit on," she said before departing back down the hall.

The bathroom looked brand new and obviously had been magically expanded. A deep tub sat against one wall next to a row of sinks and several toilet stalls; the shower was almost a small room itself, with gleaming tiles, a number of jets, and a wooden bench in the center.

Now that they were inside, Fleur wasn't sure what to do. She waited by the door while Bill walked slowly to stand facing the entrance to the shower, bracing himself against the wall with one hand while he fumbled with the tie of his robe with the other. It fell open and he stood still for a minute; Fleur could see the rise and fall of his back as he breathed.

"Do you want a towel . . . to wrap? She asked quietly.

Bill nodded, still looking at the wall. "Yes, please," he said.

Fleur waved her wand and one of the towels in her basket flew over to hover at Bill's side. He took a deep breath and shrugged off the robe, letting it drop to the floor. Fleur got a brief glimpse of Bill's backside, all taut muscle and smooth skin, before the towel wrapped itself neatly around his waist. Only then did he turn, holding out his hand and taking hers when she walked to him.

"I guess this is kind of awkward," he said with a small grin. "But "– he swallowed – "not that awkward."

He had a tattoo across his shoulder, a swirling design of black that seemed to be made up of many tiny words flying through the air. Fleur touched it lightly. "What 'eez this?" she asked.

"Curse breakers' creed of protection," he said. "We all get them when we successfully complete the training." He swayed a bit on his feet and Fleur moved her arm to his waist to steady him.

"You should sit down," she said firmly. "Let me turn on 'ze water."

Bill was docile as she helped him into the shower; he sat heavily on the bench and sighed with relief. "I don't think I could have stood much longer," he said.

Fleur tapped the various jets with her wand and warm water rained down on Bill's back and against his legs. He groaned in appreciation and tilted his head up to catch the water on his face.

"Never thought I'd miss showering," he said. He reached towards the basket she was holding. "Could you . . . or maybe . . . but I don't want you to get wet," he said finally.

Fleur huffed. "I am a talented witch. I 'zink I can 'elp you wash without getting water on me too." She pulled bottles out of the basket while Bill chuckled.

"I should remember not to underestimate you."

Fleur put soap on a soft cloth and ran it across the tight muscles of Bill's neck and shoulders, feeling them relax. He leaned back against her when she reached over him to wash down his arms and then his chest, sighing with enjoyment. "That feels so good," he mumbled. "You don't even know." Fleur couldn't help grazing her lips across his back and he grabbed her hand in his, bringing it up to kiss as she had to him.

He let her wash his hair, tilting his head up and resting it against her stomach to look into her eyes while she rinsed out the shampoo. Despite the intimacy of the position, there was nothing suggestive in his gaze as he watched her, but he shivered involuntarily when her fingers trailed down his cheek to brush an errant lock of hair out of his face.

Fleur put more soap on the cloth. "'Ere," she said, handing it to him. "For your . . . for under 'ze towel." She gestured with her hand and blushed.

Bill blushed too; Fleur could see the red climbing up his neck. "Ahh, yes. I had better take care of that myself." He unwrapped the towel at his waist.

Bill did not ask her not to look. Fleur stood behind him and carefully kept her eyes turned away anyway; neither of them spoke until he was done, dropping the cloth on the shower floor and folding the towel over him again.

"I think I am clean," he said.

Fleur nodded and then realized he could not see her face. "I will 'elp you up," she said softly. She turned off the water and lifted a dry towel out of the basket.

Bill stood on his own instead, letting the wet towel that had covered his lap fall to the ground. He turned slightly in her direction, twisting his head to look for her. She silently handed him the towel and he rubbed it across his back and stomach before wrapping it around his hips and turning fully to her.

"Thank you," he said.

Fleur shrugged. "Of course," she said.

The silence between them grew heavy. Fleur heard Bill take a deep breath.

"I . . . took my last potion," he said quietly. His eyes found hers as he closed the space between them and gently lifted her chin.

His lips were soft, searching, and Fleur sighed as Bill fit them around hers. After a minute she let them fall open and welcomed the familiar feel and taste of him on her tongue.

Bill made a sound low in his throat when Fleur wrapped her arms around him but neither of them made any move to go further than those soft kisses they had missed. Indeed, Bill soon swayed on his feet and Fleur pulled away to help him back into his robe before walking him down the hall to his bed.

He was barely beneath the blanket before his eyes were fluttering with exhaustion. Fleur leaned over to kiss him on the forehead and he moved her head to his so that he could kiss her on the mouth instead.

"Thank you . . . for the shower and the kisses," he slurred, eyes closed, and Fleur gave a quiet chuckle.

"Sleep well, love," she said quietly before slipping out of the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Bill was discharged two days later and back at work after a week. By all outward appearances, nothing had changed between him and Fleur. She still divided her work time between the Goblins and the curse-breakers, they still had lunch together as often as possible, and, she continued to pass on any news she heard that might be of use to the Order.

What no one else knew was that, after helping Bill back to his flat from the hospital and getting him settled, Fleur had stayed. She had not moved her belongings there and indeed, she was sleeping on his sofa, but the thought of her leaving felt unnatural to both of them.

She had gone back to her own flat only when he Floo'ed his parents to tell them about the curse, returning several hours later to find his counters full of home cooked meals and several new sweaters piled on a chair. Bill was quiet; Fleur sat with him on his sofa and waited for him to talk.

"They wanted me to come home," he said. "I told them I was fine here, that I had help."

"Do they . . .?"

Bill nodded. "They have known about you for a while," he admitted. His voice got a little more animated. "Almost since you began working with me."

Fleur twisted to look at him. "What? Since . . . since then?"

Bill smiled. "Not that we are . . . I told them you came here to work on your English, and that I am helping with that."

"And did 'zey believe you?"

Bill smiled again. "Probably not completely." His face grew serious. "Things are not going so well for the Order right now. We haven't been able to convince many people to join our cause, Dumbledore has disappeared rather than be arrested; the Ministry still refuses to believe Voldemort is back. Who I may or may not be kissing is lower on their list of priorities."

Fleur nodded. She felt strangely disappointed. "So, your parents, 'zey think I am . . . just another of your . . ." - she couldn't find the word in English - " _le dalliance?_ "

Bill looked carefully at her. "For now." He scooted closer to her on the sofa and pulled her into his lap. "But not for long. You are right. They need to know."

"And what, exactly, will you tell them?" Fleur couldn't quite keep the waver out of her voice.

Bill's arms tightened around her. "I know I haven't said it yet. I should have." His voice was quiet against her hair. "If you don't know already, I'm completely in love with you, Fleur Delacour."

Fleur shivered at his words. "I . . . I thought . . . maybe," she began. "I, of course, am in love with you too."

Bill chuckled. "Of course?"

"Yes, of course. I would never have wanted to be with you, all the time, in all ways, otherwise. It is quite . . . un-Veela of me, to love you so much. But I do," she finished simply.

"Well then, I guess I'm glad you are only one-quarter Veela," he said.

That reminded Fleur of something. "But it is enough, isn't it?" she asked him. "When I first met you, I thought my magic didn't affect you at all. But then you told me it did." Her voice grew coy. "It must take a lot of effort not to show me, ne'cest pas?"

Bill groaned. "You have no idea the effort it takes."

Fleur pushed herself out of Bill's lap and stood up, taking his hand. "Why don't you show me, then? We can see what is stronger, Veela magic or your control." She let her magic flair and cocked her head towards his bedroom with a smile, trying not to let any nervousness show.

Bill swallowed hard. "That would be . . ." he began. He stopped and looked carefully at her. "But only if you are sure," he said. "And only . . . it's up to you . How far. . . whatever you want to do." He lifted her chin. "I mean it. I can wait for . . . for everything. And, if you never want to . . . some things, that is okay too."

Fleur nodded. "I know." She took his hand again. "But, I think . . . not here." She looked up at him. "Will you trust me to take you Side-Along?"

In response, Bill wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I will trust you to take me anywhere."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Bill stood silently in the doorway of Fleur's room while she waved her wand to light several lamps that floated near the ceiling. Her room was all rich blues and creams and soft corners and elegant lines mixing together effortlessly. Bill smiled to himself. Even if he hadn't known this was Fleur's space, he would have guessed immediately. There were heavy curtains at the windows and Fleur closed them all, shutting out the rainy afternoon and cocooning them in privacy.

They hadn't spoken a word since leaving his flat to Apparate to hers, and he was determined – and, truth be told, more than a little excited – to let Fleur lead the way.

Fleur finished readying the room and walked over to him, tugging his hand gently to pull him further inside. She smiled up at him and trailed one hand down his cheek. He couldn't stop the shudder than ran through him and Fleur laughed softly. "I 'zink this is going to be easy."

Bill chuckled too. "I think I'm playing to lose."

"Neither of us are going to lose, I think," she said. She was walking around him now, ghosting her hands across his back and running them down his arms. She moved her hands to his waist and pulled at his t-shirt until he lifted it over his head. Her lips replaced her fingers and he sighed as she kissed him softly along his shoulder, moving slowly. When she reached his front again, she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, pulling his head down to hers so she could deepen their kiss.

Despite his determination to let Fleur lead, Bill couldn't help wrapping his arms around her and surrounding her in his embrace. In response, she moved her hands to his bum and pressed him against her. Bill hissed – she had never touched him there before – and tried not to grind his growing arousal against her hips.

All too soon, Fleur pulled back and Bill stilled himself, wondering if they had gone too far. But a tiny, wicked grin – a look Bill had never seen before – played on her face. "Veela time," she said softly.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed him gently backwards to the large stuffed chair that sat against the wall across from her bed. He sunk down into it and let her hands guide him to lean back against the cushions.

Fleur stood in front of the chair, and the look on her face was intense. Bill swallowed hard. He couldn't resist the need to adjust himself in his trousers, shifting subtly in his seat. When he looked up, Fleur was watching his hands. Her tongue darted across her lips and Bill had to look away for a moment, breathing deeply, to keep himself in control.

"You are trying to fight it," she said, amusement in her voice.

Bill nodded mutely, face turned towards the wall. He made his mouth work. "Thought I should . . . should at least try," he said thickly. "Only works if . . . I can't see you." He swallowed again. Bill sensed her moving closer and he closed his eyes, letting the emotion wash over him.

"Look at me," she said softly.

Bill didn't want to fight it anymore. He let his eyes catch hers, and once they did, he was powerless to look away. Fleur's skin was shimmering faintly and Bill could feel her energy surrounding him, tickling itself across his skin as certainly as if she was touching him. He realized he was trembling, whether with anticipation or something else, he wasn't sure. He only knew that he didn't want the sensation to stop, that he wanted to sink into whatever Fleur was offering him and never come back.

Fleur seemed to understand what he was feeling. "It will be different for you, than for other men," she said. "Because . . ."

"Because I love you," he finished hoarsely.

She nodded. "And because I love you." She had been moving closer to the chair as she spoke, and now her knees almost touched his.

She took a deep breath. "I . . . I'm not sure exactly how . . . it will be different though." Her assurance seemed to waver for a moment and Bill saw a flush of vulnerability cross her face. "I hope you will not be disappointed," she said quietly. "I'm not sure I am ready for . . . everything."

Bill grabbed her hands. "I don't care about everything," he said firmly. He kept his eyes on her and she slowly nodded. "You could stop now, and it would be more than enough," he continued. "This – you and I – it is not about that anymore." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Not that I don't enjoy it, of course. And I'll admit I'm more than a little curious to see how your Veela magic adds to . . . whatever you want to do. But I don't need it," he said.

Fleur's face relaxed and the wicked gleam returned to her eye. She bent down and put her lips to his ear. "Don't worry, she whispered. I'm not nearly ready for this to be everything."

She straightened up and grabbed the bottom of the jumper she wore, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor. A quick movement behind her back and her bra quickly followed.

Bill sucked in his breath. He had spent some time at Fleur's chest already, but always with her shirt and robes merely opened or pushed out of the way, and always in rooms that were dark or nearly. Now he could see everything.

Her breasts were, not surprisingly, as beautiful as the rest of her. They sat high on her chest, creamy white gradually darkening at the center, with the pink of her nipples jutting towards him. Even as he watched, they hardened, as if his gaze were a touch. He couldn't tear his eyes away and he caught himself starting to reach towards them, before Fleur's soft laugh brought him back to himself. He lowered his arms back to his lap and flushed. "Sorry," he said, not sure that he really was.

Fleur laughed again. "You should not be." She climbed into his lap, curling sideways in the chair. He automatically wrapped his arms around her and suddenly her breasts were right there, perfectly positioned for him to run his thumb across. He couldn't stop himself – brushing sensitive flesh and watching as the skin around the center puckered and tightened.

Fleur was moving along his neck and down to his collarbone; every tiny press of her lips sent a jolt of pleasure through Bill that was far more intense than the light pressure of her kisses suggested. He groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. Fleur stopped the progress across his chest and made a low sound of satisfaction.

"It is more, is it not? Like I promised?"

"Yes," Bill groaned again. "Don't stop."

"Then you cannot stop either," she said. "I like . . . when you touch me." She dipped her head back to his shoulder and pressed open-mouthed kisses there.

In response, Bill cupped his hand around Fleur's breast, covering it completely. He kneaded her nipple lightly between his fingers and when she shuddered, he gave attention to her second breast as well. Fleur moved her head to Bill's jaw and then to his lips; he captured her face in his hands and held her there, kissing her insistently.

Fleur kissed him back just as completely. She lay one hand flat on his chest and Bill knew she could feel the erratic beating of his heart. He had never felt so out of control so quickly. It wasn't that he was near climax, he wasn't there yet, but the intensity of his feelings – both physical and emotional – left him unable to focus on anything but the fact that this felt better than anything he had ever experienced. Fleur was in charge tonight, and Bill was more than willing to go along wherever she wanted to take him.

And when she moved her hand down to tease around his waist, dipping her fingers briefly into his trousers to stroke his hips, Bill shuddered so hard he fell away from their kiss. In all the time they had been together physically she had never put her hands anywhere lower than his back, and the brief sensation of her hands farther down sent a strong jolt of heat between his legs.

Fleur took advantage of their separation to pull her head back and look at him. "Do you like being with a Veela, so far?" she asked seriously. She was watching him carefully, all hints of coy teasing gone.

Bill forced himself to focus on her question. He knew his answer was important, and that Fleur was not merely asking how he felt physically. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the innocent gesture helping him marshal his thoughts.

"I like . . . no, I _love_ being with one Veela," he said. He raised one hand to brush lightly down her cheek as he answered. It was trembling a bit, as if Fleur's energy was inside him too, and he saw her look at it.

"I know it is different, more intense, than before." She said. Her hands dipped back into his waistband and Bill couldn't keep back a groan. "I want to make sure it is not _too much,_ before . . ." She took a deep breath and Bill saw a hint of blush on her cheeks. Then she squared her jaw and continued. "Before we do . . . more." She looked carefully at him.

Bill swallowed hard. The single word, _more_ , hung between them and seemed to float around the fingers Fleur was still tickling along his hips. He couldn't answer her immediately, but whatever Fleur saw on his face seemed to satisfy her, because she gave a little nod and smile.

"It is more intense for me too," she said quietly. Bill felt her shudder and he tightened his arms around her. "But I am ready, in my heart and my body, to . . . to . . . not stop yet," she finished. She touched her hand to his cheek. "Will you come with me?"

Bill nodded. "Wherever you want," he said hoarsely.

They stopped talking; Bill didn't think he had any words to explain what he was feeling anyway. Fleur twisted in his lap so that her head was at his chest and she kissed him lightly across the patch of skin over his heart. Her hands were no longer in his trousers; she ran them up his sides and then back down instead, following their path slowly with her mouth. She twisted in his lap again so that her hips straddled his and Bill felt the wonderful, familiar pressure of Fleur pressing down on his arousal. He closed his eyes and couldn't help but thrust up against her and she pushed back, squeezing her knees and thighs around his waist. He thrust again, and then again, and was slowly establishing a rhythm, when Fleur moved again.

The pressure was gone so quickly that Bill was still thrusting as Fleur pushed herself gently off of his lap. He opened his eyes, confused by the loss of her weight, and almost forgot to breathe.

For Fleur was kneeling on the floor, between his legs, and her hands were at the waist of his trousers again. But this time, they fumbled with his belt and his buttons and she opened him up, pushing the fabric down around his hips.

Bill was barely aware of the movement he made to raise himself off the chair high enough for Fleur to tug the trousers down all the way to his ankles. She was carefully focused on her task; she was not looking at him at all as she pulled them all the way off, discarding them on the floor. She settled herself more firmly between his legs and took a deep breath. Her head was still bowed and her hair fell around her face like a curtain.

She hadn't even touched him yet, but every nerve in Bill's body was humming. He didn't want to break the spell, but gently leaned forward to capture Fleur's chin in his hand. He tilted her face up until her eyes met his. She didn't speak, just gave him a quick nod. There was no trepidation on her face, only anticipation mixed with a little bit of shyness. Bill watched her silently for a second before nodding back and letting her go back to her task.

His penis was hard inside his boxers and the tip poked out through their waistband. Fleur considered it for a moment and then slowly reached toward the fabric. Time seemed to slow down as Bill watched, but finally her hand was there; she touched him lightly at first, and then, when he gave an involuntary thrust, lay her palm on top and wrapped her fingers around.

"Yesss," he hissed.

And then Fleur was tugging down his boxers too and Bill let his head fall back on the sofa, so overcome with the feeling of her hand on his flesh he almost cried out.

She stroked and tickled, touching him softly with one hand and then both, and when he was almost ready to explode from needing more, she took him more firmly in hand and thrust down just as he pushed up, bringing Bill that much closer to losing control. It felt so good – to have Fleur touching him – and the fact that her rhythm wasn't quite perfect made it even better, made him able to stay off the edge just enough so that he didn't get _there_ too quickly. It was delicious torture, and Bill let the sensations course over him. With someone else he might have added his own hand to help move things along but now the pleasure he was getting from Fleur's unhurried attention was more than he could have needed and he wanted to draw it out as long as possible.

He had closed his eyes when he felt Fleur shift between his legs and a tickle of her hair danced across his belly. Her hand shifted lower towards the base of his penis and Bill felt the warmth and wet of her tongue hesitantly touch, and then withdraw.

Bill's hips jerked. He made a sound that was at once pleasure and surprise and need; it was almost feral. His eyes flew open.

Fleur was bent over, gently circling the tip of him with her tongue. She had tucked her hair behind her ears and he could see as her lips opened to take more of him inside. Her head bobbed lower and then withdrew, and then she did it again and Bill almost lost himself right then.

Of course this wasn't Bill's first experience receiving oral sex; he liked having a witch go down on him almost as much as he enjoyed returning the favor. He understood the rules of fellatio and what was expected of a bloke to make sure he didn't do anything _untoward_ to his partner – never thrust too hard or too deep, and give fair warning before climax. And dimly, Bill was aware that this must be Fleur's first time performing this act, and thus, extra care should be taken.

But he was completely unprepared for how it felt to have Fleur perform oral sex on him. The combination of loving her, Veela magic, and the understanding of how much she must love him to do it made him useless. He tried to say something – to thank her or encourage her maybe – but his voice didn't work any better than his limbs, which lay limp against the cushions of the chair.

She took him further into her mouth and sucked and Bill let out a grunt of pleasure. The sound seemed to embolden Fleur, and she moved her mouth lower, enclosing him almost completely.

Bill came undone. His orgasm built rapidly – the pressure starting in his back and spreading throughout his entire body. He tried to make a sound of warning but his mouth wouldn't work right and he didn't know if she heard him. Indeed, she seemed to redouble her efforts; her mouth was everywhere and her hand gently cupped his sac and when she pushed her mouth down to take him in completely he couldn't hold back any longer.

He came hard, pulsing into Fleur and making an almost inhuman sound of pleasure as he did.

She took him all in and did not seem at all distressed, finally giving one final swallow sitting back on her heels, looking at Bill with a satisfied expression.

Bill's limbs felt like they were full of sand and he wasn't yet back to himself, but he reached down and effortlessly lifted Fleur up to his lap and surrounded her with his arms.


	12. Chapter 12

Fleur slept in Bill's bed for the first time that night. They talked and kissed and talked some more and didn't do anything else, and it was perfect. In the morning they walked, hand-in-hand, to Gringotts, and that evening moved all of Fleur's things to Bill's flat. They celebrated with takeaway from the shop on the corner; Fleur trying Bill's beloved shepherd's pie for the first time and extracting his reluctant promise to try "something French" one day soon.

It was surprisingly easy to fall into housekeeping with Bill. There was no awkwardness about sharing space or adjusting habits, a fact Fleur mentioned about two weeks after she had moved in. It was a rainy Sunday in early May. Bill was listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless while she read a book about healing spells; after Bill's experience being cursed, Fleur had decided to learn as much as she could.

The game ended, and Bill waved his wand at the wireless to turn it off. "I was thinking about that too," he said. He smiled at her, his grin full of contentment. "I think we were both just really ready to find each other."

Fleur nodded. "We complement each other," she agreed. "I suppose I recognized that from 'ze start." She shifted on the sofa and closed her book. "Next time you get cursed, I will know more about what to do."

Bill raised his eyebrows. "Next time?" he asked lightly, getting up from his seat and walking over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled her legs over his lap. "I don't intend for there to be a next time." He rubbed his hand gently across Fleur's thigh.

Fleur shivered and scooted closer. "Good," she said simply. She leaned in for a kiss.

They didn't speak at all for a while, after that.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur was working at her desk upstairs in the Bank, frowning to herself over a half-heard conversation, when Bill came to collect her for their regular lunch date.

"Paperwork getting you down?" he said cheekily as he walked into her office. But then he caught sight of her expression and the smile slid off his face. "I'm feeling like that Muggle sandwich shop today, what about you?" he asked carefully.

Fleur nodded. "That would be lovely, 'zank you," she said formally.

They walked quickly through Diagon Alley into the Leaky Cauldron and then out into Muggle London, to the café they frequented whenever they wanted to talk without being overheard. Nevertheless, Bill cast a _Muffliato_ over their table after they sat down. "What is it?" he asked tersely.

"I'm . . . I'm not sure," Fleur admitted. "'Ze Goblins, they are whispering a lot again. Lucius Malfoy was here yesterday and I think they are interested in something he said." She shuddered. "I do not like 'zat man. He is 'orrible."

Bill nodded, his face grim. "He almost got my sister Ginny killed in her first year. If not for Harry and my brother Ron, she would have died in a secret chamber at Hogwarts."

"'E looked me up and down as if I was something to eat," said Fleur with distaste. "And 'e asked me if I was 'appy at my present job. Like I would ever go and work for that . . . that . . . man." As usual when she was angry, her English failed her.

"I think the word you are looking for is 'arse," said Bill.

"Or worse," said Fleur darkly. "But 'e said something odd as 'e left my office. To 'is wife. Narcissa, I think her name is." At Bill's nod, she continued. "'E said to Narcissa something about needing a good night sleep last night, but that she need not stay up. 'Important things coming,' he said."

Bill frowned. "What could it be now?" he asked. "The Order doesn't think Voldemort is ready to reveal himself yet."

Fleur shrugged. "I don't know then," she said. "But I will keep listening."

"Can you work late tonight?" Bill asked. "I have to stay and set up some wards with Miriam. Maybe you can get ahead on that mountain of paperwork I saw on your desk and then we can walk home together later." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Fleur swatted him with her napkin. "I will never 'ave as much paperwork as you," she said. "But I will stay anyway until you are ready to leave.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Bill's work with Miriam was complicated, and it was nearly midnight when he sent his Patronus to Fleur's office. She had to smile at the sight of his cheetah, speaking in a suggestive voice and asking her to come say goodnight, that he needed to stay a few more hours, but that she could go home.

Fleur straightened the parchment on her desk into a neat pile, and was almost to the steps that led down to the curse breaking area when Bill came flying up the stairs at a dead run, his face as close to panic as Fleur had ever seen.

"Death Eaters . . . Ministry . . . Harry . . . Order . . ." he gasped out before grabbing her around the waist and turning on the spot.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

By the time they arrived, it was mostly over. Fleur caught a flash of Apparition out of the corner of her eye that she leaned later was her first glimpse of Voldemort, but Bill's attention was focused elsewhere. Harry Potter, filthy and bleeding and looking close to shock stood in the center of the ruined Ministry atrium with Dumbledore, talking to Minister Fudge. Even as she watched Harry touch a Portkey and disappear, Bill was muttering next to her. "If Harry is here . . . Ron must be too." He looked wildly around, his face tense.

Fleur pointed out Madam Pomfrey arriving via Floo, walking towards some steps near the back of the Atrium. "There," she said. Bill nodded.

"Stay up here, in case I miss him," he said, before sprinting after the matron.

Fleur stood out of the way, watching. She was only half aware of the swell of conversations around her as Ministry workers and others debated, with increasing horror, the fact of Voldemort's return. For she had felt, in those brief moments after she arrived, the same sense of evil and power she had not experienced since the Tri-Wizard maze. And despite having been one of the few who had believed for the past year that Voldemort had indeed returned, seeing it with her own eyes and feeling it in her heart was different. She forced herself to breathe deeply to calm herself.

Bill returned after half an hour, looking more grim than she had ever seen. "Did you . . .?" she began, but Bill shook his head tersely.

"Wait," he said. "I'll tell you at home."

Bill wrapped his whole self around her to Apparate them back to his flat. Fleur could feel him shaking; she wasn't sure if it was anger or fear or something else. When they were finally in his sitting room, he stood silently for a moment, holding her tightly.

"Ron is going to be okay," he said finally. "Ginny . . . Ginny too." Something in his voice broke and Fleur looked up at him. He nodded. "She was there too," he said heavily. "And their friends Hermione and Neville and Luna." He breathed out. "Six underage students and they managed to hold off the Death Eaters – barely – until the Order arrived. He walked her over to the sofa and sunk down, burying his face in his hands. "Barely," he said again.

Fleur knew there was really nothing to say, that the fear over almost losing his youngest siblings would not disappear immediately even with the knowledge they were safe. "Where are they now?" she asked quietly.

Bill rubbed at his eyes. "The infirmary at Hogwarts," she said. "I waited with them at the Ministry until my parents arrived; the Aurors transported everyone back to the school." He looked at Fleur. "But it's worse than that."

Slowly, Bill told her about the death of Sirius and what had led to Harry and the others being at the Ministry in the first place. Fleur's heart ached for Harry, losing his godfather, and she said as much. Bill nodded.

"It's not his fault," he said harshly. "Whatever anyone else says. I heard . . . other people were already talking at the Ministry. It's not his fault," he said again.

"Of course not," said Fleur. "I know 'Arry. 'E would do anything to save those 'e loves."

Bill nodded. "And my brother and Hermione will follow him anywhere in support." He rubbed at his face. "Apparently Ginny now too." He looked at her and his face reflected the horror she had been feeling. "If something had . . . had happened to one of them . . ."

"I know," said Fleur softly. She took Bill's hand and rubbed her thumb lightly over his skin. "It is hard, watching them grow up and make their own decisions."

Bill nodded. "Ginny especially. We are all fairly used to Ron getting into scrapes with Harry. But I've never quite stopped thinking of Ginny as a small girl." He sighed. "According to the twins she already has had a boyfriend or two." He chuckled quietly. "Little Ginny, kissing a boy. I don't want to even think about it."

Just then, a silver weasel Patronus dropped down in front of them. After a pause, it spoke with a voice Fleur didn't recognize.

 _Ron and Ginny and the rest are safe at Hogwarts. They are recovering and will be fine._

"My father," said Bill quietly.

 _Kingsley thinks we will start to see more violence, so be on your guard. There are more Death Eaters than just those involved tonight, and even those won't likely be long in Azkeban. Stay alert and check the wards on your flat. We love you, Bill. We'lll be in touch soon._

The Patronus faded away and Bill rubbed at his eyes. It was nearly two in the morning and the room was quiet and bathed in a faint blue glow from the streetlights outside. "I guess we should start adding new wards," he said tiredly. He reached for his wand.

Fleur put her hand on his arm. "I 'zink new wards can wait until morning," she said carefully. "We should go to bed."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep, no matter how exhausted I am," he said. Nevertheless, he took the hand she offered and stood up.

"I did not say we should sleep," replied Fleur. "I don't 'zink any Death Eaters will come 'ere tonight. She let her Veela magic flare just a bit and wound her arm around Bill's waist.

Bill took a deep breath and the tense set up his shoulders relaxed a little. "I think you are right," he said, following her into the bedroom.

HPHPHPHPHP

While he took off his clothes and waited for Fleur to finish in the bathroom, Bill could not stop his mind from reviewing the events of the evening. Even the brief glimpse of Voldemort had been terrifying, of course. Bill could barely wrap his head about the fact that Harry had already faced him in some form or another - and survived - five times in his short life. Bill knew many powerful wizards and recognized that Harry's strength and gifts were unique. But even so, he could not quite reconcile Harry Potter, the powerful Boy Who Lived, with Harry Potter, his youngest brother's best mate and the lifelong object of Ginny's affections. Ron was stubborn and impetuous and Bill had always thought of him as rather immature. Ginny was tenacious and witty and tough, but still so young, and Bill treated her indulgently because of it. He suspected a reevaluation of both of his youngest siblings was probably in order, sooner rather than later.

The door to the bathroom opened and all thought of Ron and Ginny flew out of Bill's mind. For Fleur, who had, until now, contented herself with sleeping in his oversized t-shirts and loose pajama pants, seemed to have finally unpacked the rest of her things. The pale nightgown she wore hugged her curves and showed so much of her glowing skin that Bill realized only when he became light-headed that he had neglected to breathe.

She smiled shyly at him. "I think I can tell you like it," she said softly. Her eyes dropped to his waist and Bill did not even try to hide the fact that his pajama bottoms did nothing to conceal his arousal. He walked swiftly to her.

"I love it," he said honestly, leaning down for a kiss.

Fleur did not keep her nightgown on for long, but it was only when she shed her knickers as well that Bill realized that tonight might be different between them. And indeed, after she teased off his own pajama bottoms, she did not lower her mouth to him as usual, but wrapped her arms around and rolled him fully on top of her.

"Are you sure?" he asked her quietly. He was hovering right above her opening, and the urge to thrust was strong, but he knew he had to be certain this was what she wanted.

"Absolutement," she said solemnly. "All of me. Only for you."

And then he was moving inside her and it was the most glorious thing Bill had ever felt. If he had thought he had already experienced everything Fleur had to offer by using her mouth, Bill realized how mistaken he was when he was finally able to make love to her. The intensity of his orgasm was staggering, and only after he had regained some semblance of self did he realize that Fleur was trembling beneath him, coming down from her own climax.

"Did you . . . was that your first?" he asked. He rolled off of her onto his side and she turned to face him. She nodded wordlessly.

Bill crushed her to him then. Despite his confidence in her love, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the understanding of what it meant to have her give everything to him. He rocked her in his arms for a long moment, marshaling his thoughts.

And then. "Marry me," he said quietly. "I have never loved anyone before and now I can't imagine not loving you forever."

Fleur pushed herself back just enough to look him in the eye. "I love you, Bill Weasley," she said simply. "I will marry you. Forever."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: This is a little shorter than normal, but I've been swamped at work and home and forced to carve out random times to write. I had a few messages asking for a little more "detail" from the previous chapter; I hope this suffices.

I'm going to write the remainder of this story as a series of vignettes and missing moments that stick fairly close to canon, so don't be surprised about gaps in time. I flirted with the idea of adding some new plot elements to the story, but every time I tried to write them, they just didn't fit. This is really a story about Bill and Fleur, and a I want to keep it that way. I struggled with the end of this chapter. To be honest, I actually dislike the way most of the characters act in canon at the start of HBP - Fleur, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Hermione. I'm not going to show anyone else's perspective here, but you will learn more about what Ginny especially was feeling in a later chapter.

Thanks, and Review! (and yes, I'm working on getting a few of my other stories back up. It just takes time).

They both decided not to tell anyone about their engagement right away. "I want to keep you all to myself, just a few more days," said Bill. They were still in bed after their first lovemaking and, truth be told, Fleur was already looking forward to their second.

She nodded against his chest. "Let us just stay here, for a while," she agreed. She pushed herself into him and felt a twitch against her belly. Bill tightened his arms around her.

"Definitely . . . need to stay . . . here, a little longer," he said, punctuating his words with light thrusts. "And I need to get you a ring."

I don't care about a ring," said Fleur. She meant it, too. Jewelry had never been that important to her.

"You sparkle enough on your own," Bill agreed. "But my mum will care." He sighed. "She is fairly traditional about these sorts of things."

"Do you think she will like me?" Fleur asked quietly. Despite having known Bill for nearly a year now, almost all she knew about his parents came from what he had told her; she had yet to meet them. Bill had shared stories about his and his siblings' exploits over the years and Fleur recognized in the way he talked about them just how much his family meant to him. She knew that the family was rich in love and poor in material things; she did not know how this would affect his family's opinion of her.

He paused before answering, and that told her a lot. "They will have to get to know you," he admitted. "My mum, at least. I don't think she has ever quite stopped to think about what kind of woman I might fall in love with." He snorted. "Actually, I am pretty sure she is starting to wonder if I ever _was_ going to fall in love." He kissed her gently. "But in the end, what they will care about is that I'm happy. I know you are . . . not only the right one for me, but the only one for me,"

"Thank you for being 'onest," she said. "I know I am . . . not always so good at meeting new people. I will 'ave to try harder with your family."

"Maybe you can stay with them this summer for a week or two," Bill said thoughtfully. "I have to take all the trainees on their final testing assignment out into the field. We will be gone for ten days. That might be a good time."

"If you think they would want me," she said doubtfully.

"They will," Bill said firmly. He smirked. "My brothers, especially. I seem to remember them acting rather daft the last time they met you. Ginny will be a tougher nut to crack, but I'm sure she will love you once she gets to know you."

Fleur privately wondered exactly how Ginny would feel about the fact that she was taking her adored older brother away, but she did not share her concerns. Instead, she snaked her arm under the covers and ran her hand down Bill's bare hip to the space between them. She took him in hand and felt him quiver and begin to lengthen.

"Ahhh," he moaned. "That feels good." He quirked an eye at her. "Again?" he asked.

Mmmhmmm," she replied, stroking him more firmly. "Is 'zat okay with you?"

In response, Bill rolled until Fleur was on top of him. "Most definitely," he said huskily. "The first time I was too distracted with how good it felt to me to pay enough attention to you. This time, I want to make you come first." He spoke with authority. "And I want to watch."

Fleur shivered at Bill's words and moved her body so that he was at her entrance. He was looking up at her with intensity and Fleur suddenly remembered how she had felt back in that first cave, watching as Bill broke curses. She had wondered how it would feel to have all of his intent concentration focused only on her. Now she knew, and the feeling was as overwhelming as she imagined her magic was for Bill.

"Then don't close your eyes," she said, before lowering herself onto him. His gaze was at once curious and hungry and she forced herself not to look away as she braced her hands on his shoulders and began to rock against his hips. She didn't know if it was because he was watching her or because the second time was not accompanied by twinges of pain like the first, but Fleur found herself approaching orgasm more quickly than she expected.

"I'm . . . I'm close," she gasped out, her movements shifting from quick, in and out thrusts to slower, intense pulses that kept him almost fully inside her.

"Let yourself go," Bill grunted. He was lifting up to meet her, matching her rhythm even as it changed. He was still watching her, but Fleur saw his eyes go unfocused and his head roll back when she tightened her thighs around him.

"Watch me," she commanded breathlessly. She waited until Bill's eyes were on her again. Only then did she give into her arousal and let her orgasm take her away. She cried out as it washed over her, feeling shocks of pleasure coursing through every inch of her body. They had not died away completely when Bill groaned with his own climax, her name and words of love rolling roughly off his lips. He pulled her down so that she lay flush against him but did not pull out of her even after he stopped shaking.

"Just . . . just wanna stay here," he mumbled sleepily. Fleur chuckled.

"Two orgasms in one night and you are done?" she teased. "If you are going to be married to a Veela, you are going to have to do better than that."

"Hmmpf," said Bill with drowsy mock annoyance. "This from a witch whom only a couple of months ago intended to never have sex at all."

Fleur kissed him lightly. "If I had known back then how good it would be with you, maybe I wouldn't have waited."

"You were worth the wait," said Bill. "Give me a couple of hours and I think I'll be ready for number three."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

In early July Bill left with the trainees for their final field exam and Fleur went to spend ten days at the Burrow. The house was unlike anything she had seen in France or even in her limited tour of England, and at first, Fleur wasn't sure what to think.

"I know it's not much to look at," said Bill apologetically. He was showing Fleur around before his Portkey. "But it's homey, and we've always been more than comfortable here," he added, and a little bit of defensiveness crept into his tone. "We have a lot of outdoor space, an orchard, a garden, room to fly, and . . ."

"Shhh," said Fleur. She placed a finger gently on his lips to stop his rambling. "It is lovely. I am looking forward to learning how your Maman keeps house. It will be helpful for when we set up a home of our own."

Bill kissed her lightly. "You are working on your English," he said with a smile.

Fleur shrugged. "When I concentrate, I don't drop as many letters. The letter H is especially difficult for me."

"I've always thought your accent is charming," said Bill. He moved closer to her. His second kiss was somewhat less chaste than the first. "Actually," he amended slowly, "I think it's rather . . . sexy." He swallowed hard and ran his hand down her side until he could cup her bum with his palm.

Their third kiss was not chaste at all. Fleur quite forgot she was standing in the kitchen of Bill's childhood home or that they could be discovered by any number of his family members. She moaned as he ground into her and fisted her hands into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer still.

Bill's tongue was tangling with hers and the hand not on her bum was against the back of her head, holding her in place, when an annoyed "Oi" broke into the haze of Fleur's arousal. Bill did not seem to notice as quickly, and he looked confused when she broke their kiss and pulled back from his embrace.

"What . . . what's . . ." he mumbled, still seeking her mouth. She shook her head and flicked her eyes to the corner of the room where a red-headed figure stood with her arms crossed.

"I don't . . ." he began. His eyes finally focused and it was as if someone had sent a Stinging Hex at him; he jumped and straightened up, moving his hands from Fleur's hair and bum. A second later he wrapped one arm around her waist.

"Hey Gin," he said with forced casualness.

"Some of us use this room for eating, you know," Ginny said petulantly. She marched over to the icebox and opened it rather more violently than Fleur thought was probably necessary. Fleur sighed to herself. She had been right to think that Bill's sister wasn't going to like her.

"So eat," said Bill mildly. "Then come over and meet Fleur properly. She's going to be staying here while I'm in Wales."

"I know," muttered Ginny through a mouthful of grapes. She gave Fleur a half-grimace, half-smile. "Nice to meet you," she said unconvincingly.

"It is nice to meet you too," said Fleur, carefully. "I am looking forward to being here."

"Right," said Ginny. She put down the bowl of grapes. "Well, I'm going to go for a fly," she said. She turned suddenly to Fleur. "D'you like Quidditch?"

Fleur was caught off guard by the question. "Non. Not really," she said. "I don't really like to fly myself so I never paid attention to it." Too late she realized that was probably the wrong answer for Ginny.

Indeed, Bill's sister was already turning away. "Figures," Fleur heard her say under her breath. She slouched out of the room, throwing a "Bye, Bill" over her shoulder as she left.

"She'll come around," said Bill. "She's at that age."

Fleur didn't ask him what age that was. She didn't want Bill to have to get involved in every interaction she had with his family so she merely nodded and said, "I know she will."

Bill looked around carefully to make sure they were alone before leaning in to kiss her again. "I'm going to miss you," he said quietly. "I'm already having trouble remembering my life before you were in it."

Fleur kissed him back. "Come home soon," she said. "I will be waiting."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur tried her best to ingratiate herself to the Weasleys; not surprisingly, her efforts were rather more successful with his brothers than with his mum and sister. She spent what felt like hours feeding the chickens and learning Mrs. Weasley's seemingly unending knowledge of cooking and recipe spells. The woman was cordial to her, but nothing more, and her distance made Fleur feel like everything she said was a mistake. She mistook the sweater Mrs. Weasley was knitting as a cover for their owl's cage and remarked on the family's 'quaint' magical mirror only to learn it was nearly new. _It only spoke four compliments, what was she supposed to think?_

The arrival of Hermione Granger did not help things. Fleur's memory of the younger girl was mostly from the Yule Ball and her turn as Krum's date. It took very little time for Fleur to realize that Hermione was not, in fact, giggly, well-coiffed, and fairly interchangeable with most of the other students at Hogwarts. She was brilliant, studious, and didn't seem to care much about her appearance. Fleur considered that she and Hermione might have been friends in other circumstances, if not for the fact that the girl hadn't been at the Burrow for more than a few minutes before she saw her, head to head with Ginny and deep in conversation.

When Harry Potter appeared suddenly the following morning, Fleur thought she might have found an ally. Without waiting for Mrs. Weasley, she took the large tray of food the older woman had prepared and bustled up the many sets of stairs so that she could bring Harry breakfast in bed. He did in fact seem pleased to see her, but Fleur could not miss the look of annoyance on Mrs. Weasley's face, and belatedly, Fleur realized that she might have usurped her chance to fuss over Harry herself.

Fleur did not let her distress show, and she found herself calling more and more on little bursts of Veela magic to manage her emotions. She knew Bill would not have approved, but she also realized that could not have suspected how difficult it would be for her to be at the Burrow without him.

By the end of the week, Fleur was mostly trying to stay out of the way and counting the days until it was time for Bill to return. She wasn't sure what it was going to take to gain real acceptance from Bill's family, but for his sake, she was determined to try.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Jumping ahead now: there are probably 2-3 chapters left and I'm going to try to focus on the highlights and missing moments without retelling canon. This next chapter takes place at the end of HBP.

She had never been so terrified in her entire life. Even her fear when Bill had been cursed couldn't touch how Fleur felt now. Then, adrenaline and purpose had blocked her emotions. Then, she hadn't been aware how much she loved him.

When the Patronus came, speaking with Arthur Weasley's frantic voice, her blood had turned to ice . She barely remembered Apparating to Hogsmede, didn't know how she had found Bill's parents, paid no attention as they ran through the grounds and halls of the school that had been her home for nearly a year. She only knew she had to be with him him, to know that he hadn't, he wasn't . . . but she wouldn't, she couldn't, let her mind go there. Instead, she ran numbly, trying not to think at all.

He was alive. For long seconds, the only thing she could focus on was that one thought as she stared down at him. His face was bloody and nearly unrecognizable, but those facts barely registered. He was wearing the dragon skin boots she had gotten him for Christmas and that same concert t-shirt he'd worn the first time she'd seen him in something other than robes. Their familiarity calmed her. He was Bill, he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

Dimly, she heard Molly lament about what a handsome boy he had been and Fleur impatiently shook her head to herself. He was still as handsome was ever, as far as she was concerned. But Molly's next words pierced deeper.

"And he was going to be married!"

Only then did Fleur understand what Bill's family really thought of her; that the tension had not been one-sided; that her own missteps had only fueled their opinions. Her words in response were immediate, harsh, and honest. She already knew Bill was brave, that others could now see it too mattered little to her belief in their future.

And the dam between Fleur and Molly broke, replaced by their mutual love for the man lying between them. It was just the beginning of their understanding of each other, but for now it was enough.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

An hour later, they were back on the familiar fourth floor of St. Mungo's. The fourth floor and not the first because yes, Bill had been bitten, but the bites were cursed, and no one objected when Fleur insisted he be moved to the higher floor with Healers who had already saved his life once.

This time, Bill's family hovered and fretted and worried as they all waited for him to wake up. Fleur stood back and let Arthur and Molly parent; a move that earned her a brief but real smile from Ginny. She stood with Ron, both of them looking shell-shocked and battle scarred, and Fleur was almost relieved that Bill wasn't awake to see his youngest siblings this time. Ginny leaned into Ron and her put his arm around her. Her words were spoken in a whisper, but Fleur heard them nonetheless.

"I need to get back to Harry."

And Fleur remembered the conversation she and Bill had had just weeks ago, after he had come back from lunch with Fred and George.

 _He had returned to their flat – it was their flat now, not just Bill's. Fleur had been painting the rather dingy trim around the windows when he walked through the door and dropped onto the sofa with an aggrieved sigh, hand over his eyes._

" _What did those boys do this time?" she asked with a smile. "You don't seem to be growing a tail or anything."_

" _It's not what they did, it's what they told me," said Bill. "Something I think I would have been better off not knowing for quite a while."_

 _Fleur curled up next to him on the sofa. Bill put his arm around her and absently kissed her hair. After a moment, he spoke._

" _Ginny apparently has a boyfriend."_

 _Fleur snorted. "This is news? I thought she's 'ad a boyfriend for a while. Dean something, I think."_

 _Bill smirked. "Dean is old news. As is the boy she dated before him." His face grew more serious. "She's with Harry Potter now."_

" _Ahh," said Fleur. She tried to guess what Bill was thinking. "Are you worried?" Her own interactions with Ginny so far had been less than positive, but she knew Bill both doted on her and considered her smart and tough. Ginny had already been almost killed twice because of her interactions with Harry; Fleur suspected Bill might be moving into "older-protective older brother" mode when it came to his sister._

 _Bill shrugged. "Worried, of course. Danger follows Harry around at the best of times, and we know it's only going to get worse. That puts Ginny in danger. But . . ." he broke off and ran his fingers through his hair._

" _But what?"_

" _But even more, I think he is more than just another of her boyfriends. I think they are really right for each other, for the long term. But Harry may not have a 'long term.' And that scares the shit out of me."_

 _Fleur understood. "It's hard to love someone who has so many other demands on his life."_

 _Bill nodded. "I don't know what the prophecy said, but I have a good idea. Ginny may well get her heart broken. And there is nothing to do about it."_

Fleur looked more carefully at Ginny; it was obvious the fear and concern on her face were not really directed at her brother anymore. She tugged on Ron's hand. "Can we go?" she asked.

Fleur spoke up. "If you ask 'Ealer Griffen, 'e can take you to the private Floo in their office. It will be the fastest way back to 'Ogwarts."

Ginny gave Fleur a watery smile. "Thank you," she said quietly before following Ron out the door.

Bill's parents and other brothers left soon afterwards, with promises to return in the morning. Molly gave Fleur another hug. "Take care of him, please," she said.

"Always," replied Fleur.

And then they were gone and Fleur waved her wand to expand Bill's bed so she could crawl up next to him, ignoring the raised eyebrows of several of the Healers who traipsed in and out.

He was conscious by now, but confused by the pain and the potions and the bandages on his face. Fleur took his hand in hers and kissed across Bill's knuckles and he immediately calmed, a smile quirking across his lips below the bandage on his cheek.

"I love you," he said. The eye not covered by a bandage found hers.

"And I love you," she responded. "But I would rather love you somewhere other than in the 'ospital."

"How . . . how bad is it?" Bill asked, gesturing weakly to his face. It was the first time he had mentioned his injuries.

"He bit you badly," Fleur admitted. "But the Healers and Remus do not think you will have permanent effects because Greyback was not transformed."

"And what about how it looks?" said Bill quietly.

Fleur squeezed his hand. "As I told your mum, I am beautiful enough for both of us. What do I care 'ow you look?" She kissed his fingers again and let her voice take on a suggestive tone. "Besides, all of your important parts aren't injured, ne'cest pas?" She gently let her hand trail across the blanket that covered Bill's lap.

He groaned in response. "They work just fine," he said heavily. "How long did the Healer say it would be until I could use them again?"

Fleur reached forward and found Bill's lips. "Hopefully not too long," she said.

Within two days, Bill's face was no longer bandaged; the magical potions and creams the Healers had applied were doing their job to close his wounds. The scars were prominent and permanent, but his eyes were still bright and piercing and his mouth as expressive as ever. Fleur had barely left his side, but now she stood in her traveling cloak, waiting for the Healer to arrive with a Portkey.

"I wish I could go with you," Bill said.

"I know," said Fleur. "But you need to heal. I will give your love to everyone."

Bill nodded. "My parents will meet you there," he said. He yawned. "That last potion made me sleepy."

Fleur leaned over and kissed him. "Sleep well, my love. I will be back after the funeral."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Fleur had not known Professor Dumbledore well, but she understood the nearly legendary place the man had held in the wizarding world. The shock and horror was palpable; it foreclosed the grief, and was only eased with the beautiful Phoenix Song that echoed through the grounds.

She felt frozen, listening to a small wizard speak about the man; her thoughts were swirling and kept drifting back to the man she had left at the hospital. That Bill was alive and okay was close to a miracle; the more Fleur heard about what had happened the night Dumbledore had been killed the more she could not believe that everyone but the Headmaster had survived. She hadn't let herself think about it too carefully yet, hadn't considered what his death meant, what was going to happen for the Order. There were paths she wasn't ready to let her mind take, although she knew that soon she would have to.

From where she sat, Fleur could see Ginny Weasley, sitting quietly next to Harry. They were holding hands, their faces nearly identical masks of solemnity. Fleur could almost see the weight of the prophecy sitting on Harry's shoulders and yet, he had a quiet determination about him quite at odds with his youth. Even as Fleur watched, Harry turned towards Ginny and spoke quietly to her. Fleur saw a fleeting, desperate smile cross her face and then a nod of acceptance. Harry got up and walked away and Ginny stayed quietly in her seat, looking at her hands.

The service was over now; people were walking around and speaking quietly. Fleur saw a couple of curious glances in her direction and glimpsed Madame Maxine towering above the other mourners, but she made her way instead to sit next to Ginny, taking the seat Harry had just left.

Ginny gave her a small smile. "How's Bill?" she asked softly.

"'E will be okay, thank Merlin. 'E was lucky."

Ginny gave a small snort. "Actually, he wasn't." She grimaced. "The rest of us . . . the ones not in the Order, I mean. We had . . . Harry had given us . . . Felix Felicis. We all had a sip before the Death Eaters arrived."

"Liquid Luck," said Fleur. "I hadn't heard."

"Bill didn't get any. None of the Order did," said Ginny. "But we think it kept us from getting hit too bad with the hexes." She seemed to want to talk, and Fleur let her.

"And then . . . and then Harry was there. He had been with . . . he saw . . . and now . . . "Ginny shook her head and stopped talking.

"And now he cannot rest while those he loves are in danger," said Fleur quietly. "It is as natural to him as breathing."

Ginny nodded. "Damn noble git," she said with a watery chuckle.

"He is in love with you. I hope you realize that. It is obvious to anyone who takes the time to see."

Ginny nodded again. "I think I know that," she said. "He hasn't told me though."

"''E probably doesn't think it would be fair to tell you now."

Ginny looked up, surprise on her face. "You know Harry well," she said.

Fleur shrugged. "We spent a lot of time together, the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He is a unique. . .man. I guess he is not a boy anymore, non?"

"No, he's not," Ginny agreed. "But I think he wishes he could be, for just a little longer."

"I hope he gets the chance again, to be a boy." Fleur touched Ginny lightly on the shoulder. "If you need anything . . . I . . . Bill and I . . . we would do anything for you. "

Ginny nodded. "I know," she said quietly. "Thank you."

Fleur left soon after that, to go back to St. Mungo's. She arrived to find Bill awake and waiting for her. "How are you?" he asked quietly as she sat down on the bed.

Fleur shrugged. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I can feel everything changing. It was in the air, at the funeral." She shuddered. "No one is safe."

Bill nodded. "It will be a miracle if my family survives this intact." He swallowed. "I don't know how my mum stands it."

"She stands it because she doesn't have a choice," said Fleur. "And neither do we. And so we will fight, if that time comes."

"I'm glad she has the wedding to think about. I think we all need something happy to distract us, even for a little while." He moved restlessly. "I was waiting for you to get back. The Healers said I could take a shower." There was not even a hint of suggestion in his voice. "Will you help me?"

Fleur stood up. "Of course," she said.

This time, Fleur helped Bill undress before taking off her own robes as well. And she stood with him under the warm water and he held her as she cried, finally. She cried for the loss of innocence she had seen on so many faces that day, for their fear of the days to come, and for the relief that she will still able to be held by the man she loved. There would be many dark days ahead, she knew, but for now, it was too much to think about. Instead, she rose up on her toes and pressed herself into him the way he loved, feeling his wet skin against hers. She kissed him deeply and sighed against his mouth, feeling him tremble. It wasn't weakness this time, but need, and Bill lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around him before he lowered them both to the bench in a single, fluid motion.

Their lovemaking was quiet, punctuated only by his soft groans of pleasure and her panting breath against his neck, the falling water surrounding them like a curtain and muffling the outside world.

Afterwards, she climbed into his bed and kissed down the scars on his face and tried to block out the world for one more night.


	15. Chapter 15

Happy Halloween!

It was two days until the wedding and Bill was trying – again – to get Fleur to sneak off to the orchard with him. His attempts and her refusals had become rather silly by now, but that didn't stop him from persisting. Now, he came up behind her as she stood at the kitchen sink, setting the spells to wash the dishes. He wrapped his arms around her waist before appealing to the state of his health.

"It's been an entire week, love. The healers at St. Mungo's told me I need to exercise to keep my strength up."

Fleur turned around and swatted him lightly. "They told you to massage 'ze scars on your face, Bill Weasley. Going for a week without 'aving sex will not cause you any harm. It is 'ow things are done."

"That's what you think," he said huskily. "Now that I'm used to making love with a Veela, my body might fall into a state of disrepair if it's deprived much longer."

Fleur rose up on her toes and kissed him. "That is a risk I am willing to take," she said. "For two more days."

She didn't admit to Bill, of course, that the week had been rather difficult for her as well. Neither the Weasley's single, small bathroom nor the fact that she was sharing a bedroom with her sister was conducive to taking care of things on her own either, and it was with anticipation for more than the simple fact of finally being married that Fleur looked forward to the wedding.

She couldn't ignore the tension swirling around Harry either. The poor boy still wore the haunted look he had carried since night Mad-Eye Moody had died rescuing him from Harry's horrid relatives. Fleur knew that no matter what anyone else said, Harry still blamed himself for the man's death.

After her talk with Ginny at Dumbledore's funeral, Fleur had paid even more attention to the discussions with the Order. They knew Dumbledore had left Harry a task, but so far, all attempts to get Harry to admit what it was had failed. Bill strongly suspected that Ron and Hermione were in on Harry's plans, but so far, he had stood back and not tried to pressure his youngest brother into revealing anything. It was difficult for Bill to admit that Ron was growing up, Fleur knew. She told him as much while sitting on one of the camp beds in the crowded room he was sharing with Charlie, watching him dress for dinner the night before the wedding.

"I think 'Arry is going to leave after the wedding, to do . . . whatever it is 'e needs to do."

Bill nodded tightly. "And my brother and Hermione are going with him, despite my mum's best efforts to keep them apart." He sighed and turned around. "A year or two ago, I would have said that I could not believe that the fate of the wizarding world rested in large part on Ron's shoulders. But he's a different kid than I remember from growing up. Harry has been a good influence on him."

"'Ermione too," Fleur smirked. "Ron fancies her."

Bill chuckled. "Really? I wondered. Glad he rid himself of that what's her name, Lavender? Hmm, it might be time to pull him aside for the special Weasley brotherly talk. Charlie and I cover considerably more than my dad does." He ran his hand through his hair. "Damn, but does that mean I have to include Harry? Because I absolutely refuse to tell him anything he may try to use on my sister."

Fleur stood up and wrapped her arms around Bill's waist. "I think the talk can wait," she said softly. "Until they are all home and safe."

"And they will be, right? Can you promise that?" Bill's voice broke and Fleur knew he didn't expect an answer.

Instead, she reached up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips. Bill kissed her back immediately, and put his hand at the back of her neck to hold her in place. "Please, Fleur," he groaned against her mouth.

Fleur hesitated only a moment, their need for each other more important than some silly tradition. She pointed her wand at the door to lock it and Bill made a sound of relief.

They pulled off each other's clothes frantically, kissing whatever patch of skin happened to present itself, and soon were standing naked in the center of the room. Bill held her tightly and Fleur could feel his arousal growing between them. He swayed silently for a long moment before breaking their embrace and looking down at her.

"I . . . I lose myself, when I'm with you," he said softly.

Fleur nodded. "I do too," she said.

Bill sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come here," he said, opening up his arms to her.

Fleur knew what Bill wanted. She straddled his lap and wrapped her legs around his back, feeling him fit himself easily inside of her.

"Yessss, right there," he groaned as he filled her.

Fleur decided to give something extra, and she let her Veela magic flare more than usual. Bill noticed immediately; his body stilled underneath her and she heard his sharp intake of breath before a deep shiver ran through him. He looked up at her, and Fleur could see that his eyes were already a bit unfocused.

"Did you just. . . is it more?" he asked thickly.

Fleur nodded. "I 'ave missed you a lot," she admitted. She put her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up and then back down around him, enjoying the way he trembled and groaned. Bill tightened his arms around her and began to rock her against him, grabbing her bum so he could push her into him.

She lowered her mouth to Bill's shoulder and kissed along his collarbone. He was making the small humming noises low in his throat that told her he was deep in concentration, trying to absorb every sensation and make them last. A minute later, he took her face between his hands and kissed her deeply. "I love you," he said.

His movements became more erratic as he lifted Fleur up and down in his lap. And then he tightened himself around her and groaned.

"Not yet," she murmured in his ear. "Wait for me."

"Okay," he stuttered. "But I'm . . . I'm close."

Fleur leaned forward in Bill's lap, and the tiny change of pressure did it. She nipped at his shoulder as she came and Bill nearly stood up off the bed with his own climax.

He continued to rock her as they both came back down, breathing heavily. Bill leaned back against the wall and pulled her with him and they sat there for long minutes, not speaking.

"Thank you," he said finally.

Fleur kissed him gently, understanding. "Of course."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Later, Fleur was grateful that she and Bill made love the day before the wedding; it was more than a week before they finally had time alone again. She was also glad that he had insisted they put their memories of the ceremony and party – right up until Kingsley's Patronus had interrupted – into vials to watch later. It had been a security measure she knew; no one would be able to scan their recollections and see the moment that Harry, still disguised by Polyjuice grabbed hands with Ron and Hermione and disappeared. But Fleur wanted to use the Pensieve for other reasons. She had been overwhelmed by the swell of emotion she felt, walking down the aisle, and by the look on Bill's face, she knew he had been too. She hoped that there would soon be a time when they could finally be alone together, and sit with their memories of the evening from before everything fell apart.

The Ministry/Death Eaters kept the wedding guests for questioning for hours. Bill had not even tried to have them Dissaparate; he wanted to stay close to his family. Fleur had answered all of the questions almost completely honestly; she had seen Harry several days earlier, but he had left before the wedding, and no, she did not know where he had gone. Bill was tense next to her; he relaxed only a fraction when his father returned from the "loo" with a look that confirmed he'd been able to get a Patronus to Harry, Ron and Hermione telling them everyone at the Burrow was okay. Unspoken was the question about whether the trio was similarly safe.

They ended up staying at the Burrow another five days. Fleur helped clean and repair the house and grounds and traveled back and forth with Bill to their new home on the coast. They had intended to move into Shell Cottage immediately, even unfinished, but after the Ministry fell, Bill insisted on adding several extra layers of wards and other protections before he would let them live there. He and his father also discussed putting the house under the Fidelius Charm but decided to wait; it was more important right now that other members of the Order could find the place in moments of need.

The Order had gone deep underground while its members tried to figure out a new meeting place and the few hushed conversations Fleur sat through contained little information of substance. Now that he knew Ginny would be going back to school and was not, in fact, going to be with Harry and the others, Bill had taken to talking to her quietly whenever he could get her away from their mother. Fleur knew her husband was warring between wanting to keep his baby sister safe and recognizing that her placement at Hogwarts could be useful to them.

Fleur herself sought out Ginny for another reason. The girl's sixteenth birthday was a rather solemn affair, no matter how hard Fred and George tried to get everyone into a joking mood. The group around the dinner table was too obviously missing important faces, and when Ginny abruptly got up immediately after blowing out the candles on her cake, Fleur quietly followed her into the garden.

She found Ginny sitting on a bench, kicking at a clump of dirt with her foot.

"It is going to be very hard, going back to "Ogwarts without them," she said without preamble.

Ginny looked up at her in surprise. "Aren't you going to ask me how I'm holding up?" she asked, with more than a trace of bitterness.

Fleur shrugged. "Non. I think I already have a good idea how you are doing," she said.

Ginny gave a small snort. "You're the first one," she said. "Everyone else keeps looking at me as if they expect me to fall to pieces because Harry's gone."

"I think they know you better than that," said Fleur. "But no one really knows exactly what to think right now. We all say the wrong things sometimes. I know . . . I know I do. Especially around your family." The admission was hard, and Fleur hoped it did not make Ginny angry. Instead, she nodded.

"I hated you," she said softly. She held up her hand to keep Fleur from talking. "I mean, I knew why Bill liked you . . . at least, I thought I did. You are so beautiful and exotic and I thought that was all he cared about. I thought he deserved someone better than a pretty face."

Fleur was very quiet. She had suspected much of this, of course, and the fact that Ginny could admit it now was oddly cathartic to hear. "I was . . . not very understanding, when I came 'ere last summer," she said finally. "I talked more than I listened, and I gave my opinion about things that . . . were not my business."

Ginny smiled. "You're right about Celestina Warbeck though. None of the rest of us can stand listening to her either." Her mouth tightened. "But my mum always wants to be the one to feed Harry when he gets here, she seems to think that no one else will do it properly."

Fleur snorted delicately. "Ahhh, I see that now. She's probably right though."

"I hope Harry and my brother and Hermione are eating okay now. Wherever they are. Ron especially gets cranky when he's hungry."

"I suspect 'Ermione had their food sorted right away," said Fleur. "She's a great planner, that girl is."

"Uh huh," agreed Ginny. "And I think Ron fancies her."

Fleur laughed. "I told Bill 'ze same thing."

Ginny sighed. "I hope they all . . . finish whatever it is they are doing soon and come home. But I have a feeling it's not going to be that easy. I wish I could go with them."

"I'm not sure your mum, or your brother Bill for that matter, could handle that," said Fleur honestly. "But I think Bill at least recognizes that you might be able to help from 'Ogwarts."

Ginny nodded. "I'm going to do what I can to help. I promise." She took a deep breath. "I'm . . . I'm glad you married my brother. I can tell he's really happy."

The last little knot of uncertainty Fleur had about Bill's family loosened and disappeared at Ginny's words. She put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Thank you, that means a lot." Ginny still looked about to cry, and Fleur stood up to give her some privacy. "I'm going to find Bill now. I think we can finally go back to Shell Cottage." She touched Ginny once more on the shoulder before leaving, hoping that Ginny was going to get her happiness one day too.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The first week they lived together at Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur made love in every room, twice. They also took advantage of the extra wards to run nearly naked up to the dunes on the edge of their property, where Bill conjured a blanket and they spent an afternoon trying their best to forget the outside world. News came in fits and starts. Remus had visited, looking haggard, with the announcement that Tonks was pregnant and the cryptic message that he was certain Harry, Ron, and Hermione were safe for now, although how he knew, he wouldn't say. The man looked miserable and Fleur could not help but contrast his newlywed life with hers. She had fed Remus a good meal, packed him extras to go, and urged him home for good night's rest. Fleur wasn't sure he heard her, a concern she shared with Bill that night in bed.

He agreed. "I don't think Lupin has ever gotten over the guilt he feels over the fact that Tonks has chosen to love him."

"And she does love him, we all can see that," said Fleur. "They could be so 'appy, and they are having un bebe – I 'ope he realizes soon how much he has."

Bill sighed. "Remus is a smart man. I think he will do the right thing. But I understand his concerns." He trailed a hand down Fleur's cheek. "I never doubted that you still loved me, after I was bitten. But . . . I did worry. . . . about whether my personality would change. Until we passed that first full moon . . . I thought about what might happen, what kind of man I might be going forward. And what it would mean for you." He spoke softly; Fleur could just barely see his eyes on her in the dim light. She took the hand that was still on her face and squeezed it.

"I did not know you were worried," she said. "You should have told me." She kissed his palm.

"I should have, you're right," said Bill. "I didn't tell anyone, even the healers. I guess I thought that if I didn't admit I was worried, it wouldn't happen." He leaned forward and kissed her. "No more secrets, I promise."

Fleur snuggled against his chest. "I love you." She wiggled more purposefully against him. "The kitchen was fun, but I think I want to 'ave sex in our bed tonight, okay?" She moved her hands to Bill's waist and dipped her fingers inside his pajamas. He sucked in his breath.

"More than okay," he mumbled, moving his hands down to join hers.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny was safe – if that was the right word – at Hogwarts and Bill and Fleur were both at work at Gringotts when word came that there had been some sort of disruption at the Ministry. They didn't dare go there, but sat tensely in Bill's office until, at Molly's invitation, they Apparated to the Burrow that night for a "family dinner." There, they learned from Arthur that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had, quite likely, been at the Ministry that day. "Disguised with Polyjuice, we think," said Arthur. "They caused quite a commotion down in Courtroom Ten, where that bitch Umbridge is holding her hearings on 'pureblood' status.

Bill leaned forward. "What do you think they wanted?" he asked, just as Fleur said, "did they escape?"

"As far as we know, they are fine," said Molly, and Fleur knew the woman had likely questioned her husband thoroughly on this matter already. "We would have heard if otherwise," she said with firm conviction.

Bill nodded. "And. . .?" He asked again.

Arthur ran his hand tiredly across his face. "We aren't sure. Most people seem to think they must have been trying to sneak into Umbridge's office, but for what, we don't know. I did speak to one of my colleagues who down in the Courtroom, waiting to see if his wife's brother was going to be arrested. He's sure he saw Mafalda Hopkirk put a spell on Umbridge's chest in the middle of the commotion. He didn't see much more though."

"They took an awful risk, breaking into the Ministry," said Bill. "Do you think Harry knows he has been named Undesirable Number One?"

Arthur nodded. "I'm sure he knows," he said heavily. "And I have to think that they would never have taken such an enormous risk if they didn't absolutely have to." He sighed. "We know the Death Eaters have been watching the spot where they suspect Grimmauld Place is located, even if they can't see it. We have our own people keeping an eye too. Something happened there today, after this was over. We think the kids may have been staying there, but that they are gone now.

Molly made a low sound of distress. "So where might they be?" She put a steaming pot of stew down on the table and stared at it. "Do you think they have enough to eat?" Her voice wavered, and Fleur suspected that if Molly had even an inkling where the trio might be, she would be there in an instant, delivering enough food to feed an army.

"We don't know," said Arthur. "And I want to keep it that way. Harry understands that he can't make contact with us. It's just not safe. They are all of age, and we need to trust that they can take care of themselves."

Next to Fleur, Bill made a small sound of disbelief. "Harry and Hermione maybe, but I'm not sure about my brother," he muttered, so softly that only Fleur could hear. She put her hand on his thigh. "Shh," she said. "Your maman doesn't need more worry."

They left soon after that, Apparating back to Shell Cottage just ahead of a storm. As they lay in bed later, watching the lightning through the window, Bill was still talking about his brother.

"Ron has grown up, it's true," he said. "But I'm not sure it's enough. If the three of them are out there right now, in this weather . . . " He shook his head. "I need to stop thinking about it." He rolled over and looked at Fleur. "Make me forget? Just for a little while?"

And Fleur obliged, dipping her head to Bill's chest, and then his waist, and then lower still. She kissed him softly at first, and then with more purpose, until she knew he could barely remember his own name.

Afterwards, she watched him sleep to the sound of rain beating down on the roof of the cottage before curling up beside him and closing her eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: We are nearing the end of this story; I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I've liked writing it. I can't help but start to sneak more Harry/Ginny moments into the chapter after this one - they just belong there. :)

". . . .if you don't think she needs to leave, then I'll defer to you and Mum." Bill's back was to Fleur as he knelt in front of the Floo, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders that something had happened. She put down the basket of the last of the late autumn vegetables she had been collecting and went to stand behind her husband. From that angle, she could see his father's face, swirling in the flames.

"Okay right, I'll defer only to you. I'm sure Mum has another opinion," he said. "Let me know if you hear anything else."

The flames died down and Bill leaned back against Fleur's legs. "Ginny got caught out of bed after curfew. With Luna and Neville, it sounds like." He sighed and stood up, taking Fleur's hand before collapsing on the nearby sofa. "They were trying to break into the Headmaster's office. What the _hell_ were they thinking?" He put his hand over his face and leaned back.

"What is going to happen to them?" Fleur asked.

"They got sent to the Forest with Hagrid," he said. "Which, in the scheme of things, is a good punishment to have." He was quiet for a moment. "My mum wants Ginny to come home. My dad, and Ginny, think she should stay." He sighed heavily."

"And what do you think?" Fleur took Bill's hand and kissed gently along the side of his palm.

"I want her home, of course. But I'm the overprotective older brother. I'm going to let my parents decide this time. And it sounds like Ginny and my dad won out." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "At least we will see her for . . . what's that?"

By the time Bill leaped from the couch, Fleur was already up, pointing her wand at the door. "Someone is outside," she said quietly. A second later, there was banging at the back door.

"Bill, Bill? It's me . . . Ron. Can I umm, can I come in?"

The voice certainly sounded like Bill's youngest brother, at least, Fleur thought so. He sounded hesitant and worried, but not like there was an imminent danger. Next to her, Bill stiffened.

"He's supposed to be with Harry and Hermione," he said quietly. He grabbed his wand and walked swiftly to the door and spoke through it. "If you really are my brother Ron, tell me what you and Fred did over Christmas when you were five, that got mum to send you to your room without dessert for two days."

There was a watery chuckle from the other side of the door. "The twins tried to get me to make an Unbreakable Vow to be their own personal house-elf," he said.

Bill opened the door. "Come in," he said quickly. "Did something happen? Are Harry and Hermione all right?"

"Yeah," said Ron. There was a petulance in his voice Fleur had not heard before. "They're fine. I mean, I'm sure they are fine. Better off, probably. Without me."

Slowly, the story came out. Bill's mouth was a tight line while he listened, but he didn't say anything other than to tell Ron he could stay in their guest room for as long as he needed. Ron was almost embarrassingly grateful; Fleur suspected he already regretted having left Harry and Hermione. Bill went for a long walk while Fleur set up the guest room and made Ron a plate of food. He ate it all and then some, and Fleur remembered Ginny's concern last summer about what the trio would eat.

Fleur was not surprised when Bill set several silencing charms around their room before he came to bed, and she knew without asking that he was not planning to make noisy love to her.

Instead, he paced their small room, looking frustrated. "I knew it," he said. "I knew Ron wasn't mature enough for this kind of thing. I can't fucking believe he abandoned them though."

"He regretted it, immediately," said Fleur. I could see it in 'is face. Something more 'appened than he is telling us, I think."

Bill frowned. "You think so too? I couldn't figure it out, but it sounded like they have something with them that is making their task more difficult."

Fleur nodded. "It can't be easy for Ron. "E is the youngest brother, 'e probably thinks your parents wished 'e had been a girl."

Bill looked surprised. "You think so? I never heard that."

Fleur shrugged. "You wouldn't 'ave, and I'm sure it was never said out loud. But 'aving all the rest of you going before him wouldn't be easy. And then, what does he become known for? Being best friends with 'Arry Potter."

Bill flopped down next to Fleur on the bed. "I guess I never thought of it that way," he said. "He's done an awful lot with Harry. To help, I mean. First year, he got himself knocked unconscious playing a game of cursed chess, second year, he went with Harry down into the Chamber to rescue Ginny, third year, he chased Sirius and Pettigrew into the Shrieking Shack, he fought at the Department of Mysteries and at the Astronomy Tower . . . it's actually pretty impressive."

"And he's traveling hard with his best friend and the girl 'e fancies, and not getting enough to eat, by the looks of it. They are in constant danger. It's no wonder the pressure got to be too much." Fleur kissed the side of Bill's head and he leaned into her.

"He still shouldn't have left them," Bill said after a minute.

"He knows that," said Fleur softly. "And I'm sure he is going to try to figure out how to get back as soon as he can." She rolled over so she could straddle Bill's hips. "Now, can we please put the silencing charms to better use?"

In response, Bill pulled Fleur down and kissed her deeply. "I like it when you are on top," he said with a wicked grin.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Ron left without warning the morning after New Years; Fleur had seen his open bedroom door as she walked down to make breakfast and knew without searching that he was gone.

"I hope he made it back to them," said Bill tersely over his plate of eggs. "There's a magical signature in his room I don't recognize. Not dangerous, but odd."

"I hope he took food with him when he went," said Fleur. "Although nothing seems to be missing."

Bill shook his head. "I suspect he didn't have a lot of warning." He sighed. "It will be good for Ron to go back. I could see how heavily this has been weighing on him." He smirked at Fleur. "And I'll admit, I'm happy to have our home to ourselves again. I was getting a little tired of setting privacy charms every time I wanted to see you naked."

Fleur cocked her eyebrows at him. "I was about to go take a shower. I believe I 'ave to be naked for that."

Bill jumped up from the table so quickly the dishes rattled. "I get to go down on your first, okay?" He reached out his hand.

Fleur allowed her husband to pull her out of her seat. "You will never hear me complain about that," she said.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The wind was wild the night that Dobby suddenly appeared at their back door, Dean Thomas, Luna, and a nearly unconscious Ollivander with him. Bill had been saying for a couple of weeks that he felt something was about to happen, and Fleur knew they were both relieved that his premonition had come true over the Easter holiday, when Ginny was home.

Bill was trying, as gently as possible, to get answers from Dean and Luna while Fleur attended to Mr. Ollivander. The man appeared to have been tortured over a long period of time, but Fleur did not think his injuries were life-threatening. She had just levitated him up to one of the extra bedrooms when renewed shouting outside startled her. This time, the voices sounded frantic.

"Hopefully the others all made it out alive. Harry and all." Mr. Ollivander spoke in a weak voice, his head cocked towards the window.

Fleur's stomach dropped and she heard Bill shout for her. She hastily pulled a blanket over the man on the bed.

"I'll . . . I'll be back soon," she said shakily.

Fleur went outside and saw Bill striding towards the house. She froze; Hermione Granger was cradled in his arms and Fleur thought for a terrible moment she was dead. Ron was walking next to Bill holding Hermione's hand, his face tortured. And then Fleur saw Hermione jerk a bit in Bill's arms and she jumped into action, running to the group and gently touching Hermione's face.

"What 'appened to her?" She asked quickly.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, apparently," said Bill in a tight voice.

"She put her under the Cruciatus Curse," said Ron. His voice was quiet but firm. "Over and over again. We could hear her screaming." They reached the door to the cottage and he darted ahead to open it. "But she's going to be okay, isn't she?" He looked at Fleur, his eyes beseeching.

"Let me examine her," said Fleur. She motioned Bill to lay the girl on the sofa. Outside, yet another crack of Apparition sounded and Bill's head jerked.

"Dobby and Harry," said Ron. He knelt by the sofa and put his hand on Hermione's pale cheek.

"I need to check," said Bill. He rushed back out.

Hermione was breathing shallowly. Her eyes were shut and her jaw was tight; she was obviously in pain. Ron scooted out of Fleur's way but did not move his hand from Hermione. Fleur heard him speaking softly to her while he brushed her hair away from her face.

Fleur performed a few simple diagnostic spells, thankful she had decided to continue to study healing charms after Bill was cursed. The results made her sigh with relief and she turned towards Ron. "It doesn't look like there was any permanent damage," she said quietly, watching him sag with relief.

"Thank . . . thank you," he said shakily. He continued to whisper to her while Fleur got up to start brewing a restorative potion.

Bill came through the door a moment later with the news that Dobby had been killed rescuing everyone and that Harry was digging a grave. His eyes found Fleur's and she went immediately to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting him silently hold her. "You have things you have to do," she said quietly. It wasn't a question.

Bill nodded. "I need to get my family out of the Burrow; take them to Muriel's," he said. "And I think it's time to set up the Fidelius Charms." He kissed her quickly before leaving again, and Fleur soon heard the crack as he Disapparated. She took a deep breath. Luna and Dean were still standing in the corner of the room and Hermione needed medical care. She was the adult, and it was time to focus.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

There were many times over the next few weeks that Bill thanked Merlin or whomever had put Fleur in his path that he had been smart enough to marry her; there was no way he could have managed everything alone. Not only had her healing charms helped Hermione, Ollivander, and Griphook recover fully, but she was keeping house and feeding everyone too. Most importantly, she was there in his bed every night. She let him rant his worry about the scheme he suspected Harry and the others were planning and let him love her when the weight of responsibility got to be too much.

It was only to Fleur that Bill admitted his fear and only to her that he revealed the sense of awe he felt at watching his brother care for Hermione and stand unwavering with Harry as they made their plans. He knew it involved the Goblins and he suspected it concerned Gringotts, and there were nights Bill could barely sleep for wanting to drag the three out of their beds and forbid them to do whatever it was they intended. On these nights, he often buried his head in Fleur's neck and begged her to use her magic to take him away. No matter how long the day had been, she was always there for him at night, for however long he needed.

And then the morning came when the three left, taking the Griphook with them. Bill went to their bedroom; he didn't want to know the trio's plans. So only Fleur saw the group off, and when Bill emerged later, he saw the haunted look on her face and couldn't bring himself to ask her what she knew.

Instead, she pushed him down onto the couch and pulled at his pajama bottoms until they were tangled around his ankles. Without a word, she fit herself between his legs and guided him inside, holding his shoulders in her hands while she rode him roughly, tears flowing down her face. When it was over, Bill clasped Fleur to him and held her silently. They both knew the end was coming; unsaid between them was the fear that they might not both survive it.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I initially intended to have this chapter end sexy, but by the time I got there, it just didn't feel like it fit here. It will come early in the next chapter, which is likely the last; I've said nearly everything I want to say.

This chapter kind of shattered me. I wrote a missing moment I personally have never read before in fan fiction. I just hope I did it justice.

Please Review!

Several times that long morning, Bill wanted to contact Miriam at the Bank, and every time, Fleur talked him out of it.

"It is not safe, for her or for them," she said patiently, running her hand down her husband's cheek. "I know 'ow hard this is, to wait. But we must."

"I know you're right," he said. He hadn't stopped pacing from room to room in an hour. "But I don't think they realize how dangerous Gringotts actually is. Did they think they were going to be able to get into someone else's vault?"

Fleur was silently relieved she hadn't told Bill that she'd seen Hermione disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange; that information might have been enough to send him straight to the Bank, no matter the danger.

Only minutes after the third time Bill mentioned contacting Miriam, the woman sent Bill a Patronus herself. By the time it had finished speaking, he had already pulled on his cloak and preparing to leave.

 _Bill, something's happened._ _Three children broke in to the high security vaults._ _I've heard they went to the one belonging to Lestrange._ _They've escaped on the dragon the goblins kept down here._ _Bill, I think one of the kids was your brother and I hear he was with Harry Potter._ _Don't come here, it's not safe. But . . . stay on alert._ _I'll be in touch._

"They escaped," he murmured to Fleur. "I don't know what they were doing, but they escaped." He threw Fleur's cloak to her. "We need to get to Muriel's. I want us all together while we wait for more news.

HPHPHPHPHPH

By the time they were all amassed at Muriel's, Bill knew nearly the entire story. He held Fleur's hand the entire time he spoke to his parents and brothers; she silently let some of her Veela magic flare between and watched as a little bit of tension relaxed from his shoulders.

"They . . . they took something from Bellatrix Lestrange's vault," he said tersely. "Miriam heard it was some kind of cup. There was an enchantment on it that caused the vault to fill up with duplicates that burned when you touched them." Bill shook his head. "I have no idea how they all got away from that."

"As long as they did," said Molly. She was pale, but looked more determined than Fleur had ever seen her. "Do you know where they were headed?"

"Probably wherever the dragon wanted to take them," said Bill. He glanced at Fleur and she could read the frustration on his face that came from not knowing. "It's been chained up for so long, I'd guess that it just wants to get as far away from Gringotts as possible."

"Is there any danger to Harry and Ron and Hermione?" Arthur had has arm around his wife; his face was a nearly identical mask of determination."

"Of course there's danger, they're riding on the back of a fucking dragon," said Bill roughly. Across the room, Fleur saw Ginny's face blanch. Bill must have seen it too, for a second later he walked over to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder. "Although, I suspect that the dragon is a lot easier for that lot than some of the other scrapes they've managed to get out of so far. I'll bet Hermione has a plan already."

Ginny nodded without looking up and Bill looked at his father. "Let's go see if we can get anyone from the Order by Floo. The two men walked away and the rest of the Weasleys scattered about the room. No one really seemed to know what to do.

Ginny stood silently and looked at Fleur with a pleading expression. Fleur walked over to her and lowered her voice so that no one else could hear. "I'll make sure you go with us, wherever we go," she said quietly. For there was no question in anyone's mind that something was about to happen. "I'll make sure you get to see him."

"Thank you," said Ginny quietly. "Because I refuse to be left behind over concern for my own damn safety. And I _will_ see Harry." The feistiness had not left her voice and Fleur was glad for it.

"I promise," she said.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

When the call came, everyone jumped into action, Apparating to Hogsmeade as quickly as they could. Bill had to bite back the urge to take Fleur side-along; he did not want her out of his sight for even a minute. As soon as they were both inside the Hog's Head, he found her hand and kept it in his during the walk through the passageway to Hogwarts.

It was near pandemonium inside the room where they emerged; more and more people came through the secret passageway to join the Hogwarts students already there. Bill immediately found Ron, Hermione, and Harry standing in front of the group, looking every inch as if they had just escaped Gringotts on the back of a dragon.

Harry's face was a mask of desperation. Bill could tell he was trying to hide it, and he was impressed at how well the trio seemed to be holding themselves together. There was a lot they were not telling the crowd, and Bill could see it was weighing on all three of them. As most of the crowd dispersed into the castle and only the Weasley's remained, Bill saw Harry's composure begin to slip.

"'E wants to talk to Ginny," said Fleur quietly. Indeed, as Bill watched, Harry turned in the direction of his sister and began to take a step towards her, only to stop, a tortured look on his face. He had just looked at her again when a commotion at the portrait hole made everyone freeze. Bill swore lightly as he watched Percy emerge and look in shock to be surrounded by his entire family.

There was a moment of silence and then Percy spoke, accepting blame and responsibility and looking beseechingly at his family for absolution. It was, of course, not long to come and Bill closed his eyes and reveled for a second in the peace that came from having his entire family together in one place.

"Thank god," he said to Fleur. He turned to his prodigal brother and clapped his shoulder. "Glad you are here, Perce," he said.

There was not much more for it; the battle was beginning. Ginny was warring with her parents and Harry about the need to stay in the Room of Requirement, but Bill couldn't focus on them. He pulled Fleur off to the side.

"I . . . I need you to be careful," he said. He wanted to say so much more but he couldn't get the words out. In his arms, Fleur nodded.

"I need you to be careful too," she said quietly.

Bill kissed her, lightly at first and then more deeply. He wanted to lose himself in her, wanted to ignore the fact that they were going to walk out of this room and into more death and danger and pain than any of them appreciated.

"Please be careful," he murmured against her hair. "I couldn't stand it if . . . Promise me," he said roughly.

"You have always been the one to make promises to me," she said back. "Can you again?" He knew she knew the answer.

Bill shuddered. "I love you," was all he could say.

And then they were in the midst of the battle. It seemed to last forever, and Bill had to force himself to focus, to watch for danger everywhere and not only as it swirled around Fleur. He spoke to Tonks as she searched frantically for Remus and understood her distress at not being able to find her husband.

When Voldemort's voice rang out over the castle, pausing the battle and telling the fighters to collect their dead, Fleur was only steps from him, and Bill foolishly allowed himself to feel relief. He was moving towards his wife, the need to hold her again the only thought in his mind, when Percy stumbled into the corridor.

As the oldest, Bill had taken on many roles for his younger siblings, acting as judge, confidant, referee, even disciplinarian. He was so familiar with this duty that it usually took only seconds, looking at faces filled with guilt or anger or injustice, to know what he was needed to do to fix whatever scrape his brothers and sisters had gotten into this time. When Bill saw Percy's face, streaked with tears and sorrow, his heart froze in his chest. He did not even feel Fleur move next to him and slip her hand into his. Percy fell into his arms and Bill knew that here was a problem that he would not be able to fix.

Even so, he was the oldest, and there was no question in his mind that he would numbly follow his brother through the wreckage of the castle and up a staircase to a corridor that was very nearly destroyed and then to a small niche that had once held a suit of armor and now protected something much more precious.

When Bill saw the body of his laughing, joking, brilliant younger brother, he wanted to vomit. He wanted shake Fred until he opened his eyes, telling him this was not the time and place for such pranks. He wanted to grab Fleur and the rest of his family and somehow Apparate them back in time, back to when Fred had not died and Bill did not have to know what was to come.

Instead, he stepped forward and gently closed his brother's eyes. While others around them were levitating the dead and injured from where they had fallen, Bill reached down and lifted Fred into his arms as if he was a child again and herwas merely carrying him into the Burrow so that their mum could wave her wand and put him to rights.

Vaguely, he heard Percy's continued sobs and felt Fleur's light hand on his back. "They are all in the Great Hall," he heard her say.

Bill turned automatically in that direction. He felt like he was watching from somewhere above, as if it was a Pensieve memory from someone else and that he was not about to break his parents' hearts. _And George's_. But Bill could not even let his mind go there.

He wanted to ask if everyone else was okay, wanted to know if there were other horrors waiting beyond the open doors to the Great Hall, but his mouth wouldn't work. His body felt like it was being stung a million times over by an invisible hand and there was a roaring in his ears as he stumbled into the room.

Time stopped. As if standing at the end of a long tunnel, Bill could see his family and every one of their reactions all at once; watching the awareness cross their faces nearly killed him. He saw his mum sink to her knees, watched his father's face blanch, watched Ginny scream and bury her head in Charlie's chest.

George was frozen. He was staring at Fred as if he'd never seen him before and the confusion on his face made something break inside of Bill. He made a low sound in his throat and felt his knees start to give way but a firm hand on his arm stopped him.

"Not yet," Fleur said quietly. And Bill forced himself to straighten up and forced himself to raise his head and to look at George in the face until confusion finally gave way to knowledge. He shuffled Fred in his arms and held him more tightly; his head lolled uselessly on Bill's shoulder and Bill did not know how much longer he could stand it. But he had to stand it, and he did.

George did not speak. He barely showed any reaction at all as he stumbled forward towards where Bill and Percy and Fleur still stood at the entrance to the Great Hall. He tried to reach out, to touch Fred on the cheek, or on the shoulder, but each time he pulled his arm back. Bill could see George's breath trembling in his throat as he closed his eyes tightly for a long second. His hands were fists at his sides.

And when George opened his eyes, it was as if he had aged a thousand years. He brushed his hand down Fred's cheek and stepped very close so that he could slip his own arms under his brother's body to take him from Bill.

Bill didn't want to let go, but he slowly moved to transfer Fred into George's arms. George stumbled with the weight and then their father was there too.

"Let me help you, son," he said quietly to George. Tears were falling freely down his face. "Let me help carry both of you." And together, Arthur and George carried Fred's body the rest of the way into the Great Hall and laid him gently down on a pallet on the floor.

Bill didn't remember following them but suddenly he was there with his family. Fleur's hand was tight in his and didn't think he was going to be able to let go. His mum threw herself across Fred's body and his father knelt at her side, gently stroking her hair. George positioned himself at Fred's head, he knelt there, head down, and didn't speak.

And then Ron and Hermione appeared and from the look on Ron's face, Bill could see that they both already knew. For a few minutes, Bill just stood watching, as for the last time, he still had his entire family together in one place

From the corner of his eye, Bill saw Harry, standing a little bit away from the rest, his own look of devastation on his face. He made no step to move closer and in a tiny, fleeting thought, Bill wondered if Harry should be coming forward to comfort his sister. But his mind would not stray far from Fred and from his family, and the next time Bill looked up, Harry was gone.

And while it felt like the world should have stopped because his brother had died, it did not. Voldemort's hour was ticking away and there was work to be done still. Fleur's lips were at his ear. "We need to 'elp more Bill, I'm so sorry." He nodded blindly.

"Stay here," he said to his parents and George. "The rest of us will see what else needs to be done." None of the three gave any indication they had heard him. Slowly, Bill took Fleur's hand and turned to walk out of the hall. He felt a small hand slip into his on his other side and there was Ginny, her face tear-streaked and shattered.

"I'll help," she said quietly, and they walked out to the grounds.

HPHPHPHPHP

Outside, the devastation continued. There was wreckage everywhere and bodies strewn among it. Without a word, Ginny tripped away from Bill and Fleur towards a small figure lying just beyond them on the grass. Fleur saw her kneel down and begin speaking softly to her.

Much of the fighting seemed to have stopped, the Death Eaters had heeded Voldemort's charge to cease, but danger still swirled. Fleur saw a mass of Dementors over to one side, and there were screams for help from down the hill. Two giant Acromantuas were picking their way slowly through the rubble, obviously searching for a meal. She nodded towards the cries for help.

"I'll go there," she said to Bill. "You go try to stop 'ze spiders."

Bill looked like he wanted to object. He gripped her hand more tightly and even moved his body towards the direction Fleur was looking, and she knew he intended to go with her. She rubbed her hand down his arm.

"We don't 'ave enough time," she said. "I will be back. I . . . . I promise." She reached up on her toes and pressed herself to him as her lips found his. Bill kissed her roughly back and then pulled away to look into her eyes.

"Promise," he said. He turned towards the spiders and Fleur headed towards the voices she had heard.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

It took longer than she expected, to untangle several Hogsmeade villagers from the Devil's Snare that had started taking over the pathway down to the greenhouses. By the time the man and woman were free, Fleur could hear a commotion rising from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The hour was up.

She hurried up the path back to the castle, eyes half on the Forest, expecting to hear Voldemort's voice any minute. Instead, she heard Bill, sounding absolutely frantic. Fleur's blood turned to ice. _Who else had died?_ A moment later, she realized he was calling her name.

Another few steps and the castle came into view. Bill was standing in front of the steps, breathing hard. Even as Fleur watched, Ginny and Charlie and Ron and Hermione ran up to him from different directions. They were calling things to Bill, their voices oddly magnified, as if they had all cast some type of Sonorous charm. Hermione shook her head. "She's . . . she's not at Hagrid's," she said, sounding almost apologetic.

"Maybe . . . she went . . ." began Ginny. She looked down towards the lake.

The commotion from the Forest grew louder and Fleur saw Bill's head whip in that direction. "Find her!" he screamed at his family. "She can't be . . ." He took several halting steps towards the Forest and then stopped, before turning around and starting in another direction. "Fleur!" he yelled, and his voice broke with tension.

He was still facing away when she reached him and she almost threw herself at his back before wrapping her arms around him from behind. He spun in her arms and gave a low cry when he saw her there.

"Oh god. Fleur, I thought . . . I thought you were . . . I couldn't find you . . ." Bill's voice was full of anguish and he was shaking as he held her against him.

"There was Devil's Snare," she explained. She took one of Bill's hands and touched his fingers to her lips. "Two villagers were caught. I was 'ze only one there to 'elp."

She could feel Bill's heart, still galloping against her chest. "Okay," he said finally. He buried his head in her shoulder. "Okay," he said again.

They stood there, swaying, until the noise from the Forest could not longer be ignored. Bill loosened his grip on Fleur only enough to stand defensively next to her, his wand out. Fleur mimicked him, standing so close their arms still touched.

When the crowd of Death Eaters emerged from the trees, Fleur heard Ginny's cry of despair before she even understood the reason. She saw Ron and Hermione rush to Ginny's side as the girl crumpled to the ground and she followed Bill as he ran to his sister.

Voldemort was speaking but for a minute, Fleur could only hear Bill's words as he stroked Ginny's hair.

"I know, Ginny. I _know._ And I'm so sorry. But we have to put that away for now. We have to wait to mourn. We have to fight for Harry." Bill's voice was low and firm, and after a minute, Fleur saw Ginny take a deep breath and stand up. Her eyes blazed with a fierceness Fleur had never seen and when she held out her wand, her hand was quite steady.

And then, less than an hour later, it was over. Fleur still wasn't quite sure she could believe everything she had seen, from Harry's miraculous reappearance to Molly's spectacular battle with Bellatrix, to Voldemort's final, irrevocable end.

She watched, almost dispassionately, as the crowd swelled around Harry. Bill's hand was tight in hers and they both stood back with most of his family. His hand was on Percy's shoulder. George sat dumbly on a bench next to them; his eyes kept darting to the side of the room where Fred's body still lay.

She didn't realize how much she was shaking until Bill sat down and pulled her onto his lap. He gently pushed her head against his chest and cradled her there, kissing her hair, her cheek, her hands. They didn't speak and slowly Fleur felt able to control her trembling. She watched as Hermione and Ron abruptly got up and walked out of the Great Hall, an empty space between them that she bet anything was filled by Harry under his cloak.

Ginny was sitting with her mum, crying softly. Fleur knew that the reality of Harry's survival had not yet sunk in. She felt Bill shift above her.

"I guess . . . I guess I'm going to have that talk with Harry after all," he said with a watery chuckle. "Assuming he and Ginny still . . ."

"They do," said Fleur quickly. "I'm sure of it. But I think it's going to take them time."

Bill nodded. "We all need time to heal, I don't know how long it will take." His eyes flicked towards George.

"And Harry feels guilty, I'm sure," said Fleur. "That people died."

"He shouldn't," said Bill harshly. "That's mental. He saved all of us."

"We will need to keep reminding him of that," said Fleur softly. As she watched, Ron and Hermione came back into the Great Hall.

"Are they . . . are they holding hands?" Bill asked quietly. There was a smile in his voice. "Good for them."

Fleur saw Ginny eye her brother and Hermione and then look towards the door. A second later she stood up. She touched her mum on the shoulder and then quietly walked out of the room.

"Do you think she's going to find Harry?" Bill's voice was low in Fleur's ear.

Fleur nodded. "I hope so." She let herself sag into Bill. Exhaustion was washing over her like a blanket; neither of them had slept since the moment Harry, Ron and Hermione had left Shell Cottage the day before.

"We can find a place to sleep soon," said Bill against her hair. "I'd like to be with my family though."

"Our family," said Fleur; Bill tightened his arms around her.

"Our family," he agreed.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: So, here we are. Thank you for sticking around and reviewing. The story is done; I've said everything I intended, and I really enjoyed writing it. I may add an epilogue about Victoire at some point, but I have a couple of other projects that are ahead on my to-do list first.

Also, if you are reading this on November 6 and live in the U.S., PLEASE GO VOTE if you haven't yet. It's even more important than leaving me a review.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

The Weasleys slept – as it were – in the Gryffindor common room that night. They huddled together on puffy purple sleeping bags in front of the fireplace and Fleur didn't think any of them actually closed their eyes at all. George had refused to leave Fred until the bodies of the fallen had been taken away. Now he sat quietly off to one side, mostly staring at his hands.

"I don't think he's cried yet," said Bill quietly. It was past midnight and he and Fleur were sitting together on a pair of sleeping bags he had zipped together.

"Neither have you," pointed out Fleur. Indeed, since the moment he had let George and his father take Fred's body from him, Bill had been everywhere at once, first, protecting and fighting, and then making arrangements, organizing, and moving from brother to brother, to Ginny, and to his parents to make sure they didn't need anything. The circles under his eyes were deep and his scars only accentuated the haunted look he wore. But he had yet to shed a tear, and Fleur suspected he refused to do so in front of George.

At one a.m. there was movement by the stairs that led up to the boys' dormitory. Harry appeared at the bottom looking considerably cleaner and more alert than he had the last time Fleur had seen him more than twelve hours earlier. He started at the sight of all the Weasleys, and then gave a tiny shrug before turning to look back up the way he had come. He reached out a hand to someone and then Ginny stepped into the common room too. She had been with her family for most of the evening and Fleur realized she hadn't seen her leave. Ginny's eyes were red and puffy, but when Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Do you need sleeping bags? Both of you?" Arthur spoke quietly from where he sat with Molly by the sofa. He gestured to a space beside him where two more sleeping bags sat empty.

Ginny nodded jerkily and started to walk towards her father. But Harry stayed frozen at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes darted around from face to face, stopping several times on George. He looked away from everyone as he answered.

"I don't know if I . . . I mean, I'm not . . . you don't have to . . ." Harry spoke haltingly. He backed into the shadow of the staircase as if he wanted to go back to his dorm room.

"Don't . . . don't be a nutter, Harry. You belong down here." George's voice was hoarse and shaky, but he looked openly at Harry while he spoke.

Harry shook his head. "George . . . I . . ." he began. George held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't," he said harshly. "Not . . . not now. Just get down here and sit next to Ginny." His tone allowed no argument.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. He looked around the room once more before nodding quietly and walking into the room. He sat down on the sleeping bag Mr. Weasley had conjured and grabbed Ginny's hand. She shuffled closer and leaned against him.

Next to Fleur, Bill let out a quiet sigh. "George is so tightly wound, I don't know what to do. I think he may be heading for an explosion," he said. He put his arm around her. "I hope he doesn't wait until he's alone."

"I don't think anyone is going to let him be alone, for a while," said Fleur. Indeed, even as they watched, Ron got up from where he was sitting with Hermione and plopped himself down next to George. He showed him something small in the palm of his hand and Fleur saw a small smile quirk across George's face.

"Whatcha got there, Ron?" Charlie's voice sounded overly hearty. Charlie tended to understand dragons better than people, Fleur knew.

But he was trying.

"It's umm, I think a umm, Fainting Fancy?" Ron looked at George, who gave a small nod. "I found it stuck on the side of the fireplace grate. Probably been here for years."

"We sold a lot of them," said George quietly. "They were the most popular of our Skiving Snackbox product line." He twisted the tiny colored candy in his hands. "Fred's idea," he said. His voice was barely a whisper. No one spoke.

"All the best ideas are Fred's," he continued. "He . . . he told me yesterday he'd just had a thought. About how to expand the line for the workplace . . . new illnesses and things. We've been so busy . . . he was going to tell me about it this week. We planned to take the day off, leave Verity in charge of the store. . ."

George's voice trailed off. He looked at the ball in his hand. Suddenly, he crushed it between his fingers and pitched it hard against the opposite wall.

"Now I'll never know," he said bitterly.

Ron looked stricken. He reached out a hand to his brother. "George, I'm . . ." he began.

George batted his arm away. "I'm never going to know what Fred's idea was," he said again. His voice had risen. "He was supposed to be okay. We both were - we promised each other. Just . . . just before. We promised!" George was shouting now. He got to his feet and looked wildly around before grabbing a small lamp off a side table and throwing it at the wall near the Fancy.

Fleur saw Molly start to get up, and Arthur reach out his arm to stop her. George was pacing the room, pushing things off tables and carrying on a running stream of conversation.

"See here? This is where we came up with the idea to put a permanent sticking charm on Filch's underwear. He couldn't get them off for a week but never could prove it was us." He stopped by a window. "This is where we set the charm to make it always look like it was raining when we wanted Oliver to cancel practice. Took him a month to figure out."

He pointed at a small table in the corner and looked back at his family. "And this is where we sat to fill orders. Hermione . . . she sat across the room and couldn't see what we were doing, couldn't go all Prefect on us."

Fleur saw Hermione make a convulsive movement and raise her hand to her mouth. Ron jumped up and went to sit next to her, pulling her head down to his chest. Her body shook with tears and he gently rubbed her back.

George stumbled to a halt in the center of the room. "And this . . . this is where Harry kissed Ginny for the first time," he said. He looked back at the assembled group. "We . . . we weren't here, of course. But news certainly traveled fast." He ran his hand through his hair. "That's when he . . . when Fred, I mean. That's when Fred got the idea for the kissing alerts." He looked at his sister. "Sorry, Gin," he said quietly."

Tears were running down Ginny's cheeks but she waved her hand dismissively. "It's okay," she said thickly.

George's anger seemed to have burned out. He stood in the center of the common room, swaying slightly and looking rather lost. "And umm," he began. "Umm, this is where . . . where . . ." he shook his head and sunk to his knees.

Almost as one, the Weasley children ran to George's side. Bill got there first and wrapped his arms around his brother as he finally began to mourn the loss of his twin. The rest piled on and around the two of them in a solid mass of hugs and crying. Molly and Arthur stood over everyone, gently touching one and then another on the back.

Without really thinking about it, Fleur stood up and walked tentatively over to the tangle of bodies around George. She realized that Harry and Hermione were there too; Harry had his hand on Ginny's shoulder and Hermione was standing behind Ron. As the group broke apart, George moved into his parents' embrace and Bill stood up, his eyes seeking. Fleur saw they were still dry. She opened her arms and he stumbled into them, lifting her entirely off the ground as he held her. He was trembling, and she knew that his efforts to hold himself together for the sake of his family were almost at their limit.

"Let's go upstairs," she said quietly.

Bill let her lead him to the stairway that led to the girls' dormitory. They climbed in silence until they reached an empty room at the top of the stairs that still had a faintly flowery scent. None of the Seventh Year girls had finished out the school year and the room had a slightly abandoned air about it.

Fleur set locking and silencing charms at the door before pulling Bill down onto the nearest bed. He sat heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms before lowering his head into his hands. She knelt behind him on the bed and wrapped her arms around his chest.

"I can't . . . I can't stand this," he finally said. "I can't believe he's gone. They're Fred and George. The twins. It's always been like that. And now . . ." He trailed off and Fleur a splash of wet on her hand. _Finally._

Bill cried silently and hard for many minutes. Eventually, his tears slowed and his breathing eased. He accepted the cloth Fleur conjured and wiped his face before finally turning to look at her.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely. "I didn't want the rest of them to see me like this."

He leaned against her, and she brushed his hair off his face.

"It's going to be 'orrible for a long time," she said softly. "I know you want to fix it for everyone, but you can't."

Bill nodded. "You're right, I know." He took a deep breath. "But it's going to be hard not to."

"It's who you are," she agreed.

"It's just . . ." Bill took a deep breath and Fleur felt him begin to tremble again. He shook his head.

"What, love?"

"At the battle," he said heavily. "When . . . when we split up to help. After . . . Fred." The words sounded like they were being ripped from his throat.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't find you," Bill said quietly. "For what felt like forever, I couldn't find you. I didn't know where you were, or if you were hurt, or . . . worse."

Fleur remembered the desperation in Bill's voice as he searched for her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize . . ."

"Shhh," he said, pressing a soft finger to her lips. "I know you couldn't help it, that you needed to help the others. But . . . while you were gone, all I could think was how much I wanted, how much I _needed_ to see you again." He shuffled further back onto the bed and leaned against the wall, bringing her with him.

"And then I did. See you again," he said simply. "And I was able to hold you and kiss you and know that you were going to be okay, and that we . . . that we had more time together. But George . . ." he said, voice breaking, "George doesn't get that. He doesn't get Fred back, and I know it's awful for our entire family, but especially for him." Bill was crying again, and Fleur too. He buried his face in her hair.

"I got you back," he said heavily. "It's killing me that I can't give that to him."

Fleur knew there was nothing to say. She rubbed Bill's back quietly, and when her turned her in his lap a couple of minutes later, she tilted her head up to his and opened herself to his kisses and to his hands, fumbling softly at the front of her robes.

She let Bill undress her and watched as he roughly pulled off his own clothes. Only when they were both naked did he push her gently down on the bed and cover her body with his. He kept his eyes open, watching, as he balanced on his forearms and moved himself slowly up and down her body, his arousal skimming her belly but doing nothing to seek entrance.

And then he lowered himself flush against her again and kissed her gently from her jaw down to her waist. His hand brushed against her center and then across her thigh, encouraging her to bend her knees and let her legs fall open.

He kissed the juncture of her hip, nipping lightly and then following immediately with his tongue, and Fleur gave a quiet moan of pleasure. She knew why Bill was starting with his mouth; knew that he could get lost in her, when he was like this, and that it was what he needed. He kissed across her belly before dipping down and spreading her open, first with his fingers and then with soft kisses and tiny tastes that made her writhe.

He was pushing himself into the mattress as he worked on her and Fleur knew how much he was enjoying himself too; there had been occasions – not many, but it had happened – where he had actually come to orgasm himself whilst going down on her. It had been a joke between them, that her Veela magic could bring Bill all they back to his teenage years.

But he didn't feel like a teenager now. Bill put one hand on each of her thighs and pulled himself closer. His tongue teased and tickled, sliding in and out while his fingers probed themselves. Without warning, he moved to suck on her clitoris, and the sudden intensity of it made her scream. He flattened his tongue against her and Fleur let go, pushing her hips up into him as she climaxed.

Without breaking rhythm, Bill pulled himself up her body and fit himself into her with a single fluid movement. Fleur was still quivering when Bill entered, and he moved his hand down between them to coax her back to the brink.

They rocked together, grasping each other so tightly she was sure their would be marks tomorrow.

"I'm going to . . . make you come again," Bill panted. He pushed himself up on his arms without withdrawing so he could reach down to rub her again.

"I'm almost there," she said. She thrust up. "You need to hold on for me."

Bill nodded, eyes wild. His hand worked against her. "I will," he said thickly. "But . . . oh god. I'm trying."

Fleur wrapped her arms around Bill's back and pulled her fully onto her. He pumped up and down and she lifted her legs to wrap them around his back.

"I'm close, love," she said. "Hold on just a few seconds more."

She could see Bill was beyond being able to answer. But his eyes were wide open and they stared at each other as Fleur gave a final thrust upwards, and cried out to him to let himself go.

She felt as Bill's climax ripped through him, and her. He wrapped his arms around her back and rolled so she lay on top of him as he came back to himself. He tucked her head down under his chin and gently tickled his hands up and down her back. They didn't speak.

She knew they were both thinking about their family downstairs. It would be time, very soon, to rejoin them. Fleur didn't know when she and Bill would have their next moment alone, but just knowing that they would was more than enough.


End file.
